


Knotting Hill

by Violetlyvanilla



Series: Knotting Hill Destiel AU [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Cas, Complete, Domestic Fluff, First Time, Fluff, Happy Ending, Jealous Dean, M/M, Mention Demon Dean, Mention Priest alt Dean, Movie Star Dean, Omega Dean, Omegaverse, Pining, Policeman Cas, Puppies, Rom com tropes, Soulmate AU, Sub Dean, Switching, True Mates, Uniform Kink, closeted omega Dean, dom Cas, dom sub overtones, romance tropes, soulmate tattoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-04-11 16:47:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 66,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19113745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violetlyvanilla/pseuds/Violetlyvanilla
Summary: Continuation of the fic ‘Acclaimed’. As an Alpha, Castiel is supposed to have his truemate’s name appear as a tattoo on his chest on his birthday, the year they are going to meet. Fate was going to bring them together, for a whole year, so that the alpha could woo his omega. It was all going to be very magical and romantic, except for Castiel it (a) doesn’t happen until he’s freaking 40, (b) happens with a strangely behaving jogger in Central Park and (c) he ends up with the name of Dean Winchester, movie action hero, on his chest. Dean only ever plays alphas, he lives in Hollywood, he has no interest in dating small town cops right? So Castiel should just give up his claim right?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to Acclaimed (where Dean and Cas first meet). https://archiveofourown.org/works/19064056
> 
> Will be updated weekly.

Castiel looked at the formidable line and hesitated. The building had been packed, the massive glass and steel construction barely containing all the anticipatory fans. There were super heroes and giant prints, people in lovingly crafted costumes and a fanfare atmosphere. He couldn't believe he had driven all the way to San Diego just to be moved from room to room and queue to queue, the pass Gabriel had procured for him through nefarious and likely peculiar means hung heavy around his neck. Castiel had never been to a convention before and the whole affair seemed a big celebratory prom, though what he remembered most vividly of his own prom was catching his best friend Balthazar make out with his brother Gabriel by the punch and wishing there were things he could un-see. 

The point was to see Dean. And he certainly did see Dean. So many Deans. Paper cutouts, oversized screens playing his smiling face on a loop, dozens of look alikes, cowboy Dean, spaceman Dean, android Dean, female Dean and superhero Deans. Every variation and incarnation but the one that Castiel needed to speak to in person. And what on earth was he going to say when he finally did get his turn? Castiel was disorientated and at a loss. What was he going to do? Politely tap the man on the shoulder and tell him he was his one true Alpha? There were copious amounts of articles on soulmate claims on the internet and Castiel had tried to read a decent number of them in preparation for the event. None of them, to his annoyance, gave specific advice on wooing an omega who was separated from the alpha by a few hundred fans, a lot of red velvet rope and a giant bunch of flowers. 

The flowers were held by a dark haired woman in a slinky floor length dress that looked a little like a long black wedding gown. She stood a couple of people ahead of Castiel and the smell pouring off of her was perfumed and synthetically mimicked omega scent. Castiel could tell though, beneath the nostril numbing heavy fragrance, she was a beta and she was very excited. Castiel thought her dress looked vaguely familiar, then suddenly remembered a similar looking costume on the female protagonist in the R rated dom/sub film in which Dean played the alpha billionaire. Castiel’s cheeks blushed recalling Dean's gruff voice and firm hand in the film. The people directly in front of Castiel were also a little intimidating. They were two girls, standing close together. The blond one had elaborate braids in her hair and was eyeing him with cool reserve. Her friend was smiling into a notebook she was leafing through, discussing the finer points of the illustrations with utter confidence and many words that Castiel did not understand. Castiel followed the moving queue, as the line shortened he could almost see the corner of the stage past the other straining heads and raised cameras. The woman with the flowers was muttering to herself. The girls chatted and moved with the line. As they got within several meters of the stage, Castiel tried to tame his windswept hair and straighten his tie. Passing the greasy paper bag from hand to hand. 

"What are you getting signed?" The slightly intimidating young woman with the braids turned and asked him. 

Castiel blinked in surprise. "Uh, sorry?" 

"This is the auto line, for Dean Winchester?" The girl smiled as if she was enjoying his puzzled discomfort. "Kaia is getting her inktober drawings of Batman Incarnate autographed. What are you going to ask him to sign?"

"Um, I didn't bring anything," Castiel said. "I was supposed to?" 

"I'm Claire and I'm guessing this is your first convention huh?" 

Castiel nodded helplessly. "I am a little out of my depth." 

"Bellyflopping fish more like," Claire smirked. "Here's the low down, you can bring gifts, but no food. He won't eat it and the security will just take it. You can ask him to sign stuff, nothing explicit, he'll sign on your skin only if he wants to."

Castiel looked at her baffled. "Why would people ask him to sign on their skin?" 

Claire looked at him with pity. "Oh boy," was all she said when the line finished and the woman in front of them was waved ahead. 

Being third in the line, Castiel could finally see Dean. He was sitting at a long line of tables, the glossy bench in front of him lit up by lights and safely keeping him elevated and at arms length from the visitors. He looked different. His face clean shaven and he was dressed in a form fitting leather jacket over a white t-shirt. Though the lights were pouring down over him, he looked smooth skinned and unfazed, his freckles were gone, covered up by makeup Castiel realised. He was objectively very handsome and Castiel stared at Dean's perfectly symmetrical face with his heart in his mouth. Of course he found Dean beautiful, every fragment of eyes, lashes, neck, hands, jaw coming together to make a stunning whole. Every alpha was supposed to feel like that at the sight of their intended omega, but the rub here was everyone else thought so too. He was perfection not just to Castiel, but everyone under this roof. It was a difficult thing to come to terms with. 

"What's your name?" Dean asked the woman who brought the flowers, red roses and black tulips which were quickly taken away by security. 

"Amara," she said in a low seductive voice. 

Dean smiled warmly at her and raised his pen. 

"Oh no, please, could you autograph here, I'm getting it tattooed," she pulled at her dress. 

A young woman stepped up behind Dean and whispered into his ear, he shook his head and she stepped back. 

"Alright Amara," Dean said. 

"In red, please," Amara passed Dean a sharpie. 

He autographed across the swell of one half revealed breast, the crimson ink running across milky skin. Castiel noticed Dean kept his left hand flat on the table top and drew his signature in a flash. She made a grab for his hand when he was returning the sharpie but Dean's reflexes were excellent. He was sitting down and the handlers were ushering her on within split seconds. 

"No, wait, Dean, I'm your omega," she called out to him as she was being moved along. 

"And I'm your alpha," Dean answered back smoothly, putting on the British accent his character had in the movie. 

There was a sigh from the crowd, though Claire just rolled her eyes. "He hams it up for the cameras," she hissed at Castiel. "That whole alpha schtick is kinda annoying TBH. I wish he would just be himself, but oh wait, our turn." 

Dean spoke to Claire and Kaia for much longer. As the women packed up the sketch book and started to leave, Claire turned around and jabbed her thumb towards Castiel. 

"Hey Dean, be nice to that one okay, he looks petrified. Think its his first time," she smiled crookedly. 

Dean opened his mouth to say something smartass to her but he froze at the sight of Castiel, his mouth hanging open. Castiel could hear his own heartbeat roaring in his ears as he paced up to Dean's table. He stared at Dean and Dean stared back and the entire world blossomed and died and was reborn and they were still staring. After a while, Castiel could hear the discontented murmuring from the people waiting in line. He blinked a couple of times, flustered and brought up the paper bag and dumped the greasy mess onto the glossy bench. The woman, probably security, stood up again but Dean said a quiet "Chill Charles" and she sat down. 

"Hello Dean," Castiel finally managed to get the words out, they sounded stiff and impersonal, which was not remarkable given the fact that Dean was a stranger. Even if his name was tattooed across Castiel's heart by fate. 

"Um, I'm sorry, I don't know your name." 

"Cas," Castiel said. "Short for Castiel." 

Dean's chest heaved and he sat down abruptly. Sinking into his chair. Castiel cleared his throat, taking Dean's sudden slump as a signal that he was not very interested in this conversation and probably about to ask security to move Castiel on. 

"I wasn't aware food gifts were not allowed," Castiel pushed the butter soaked paper bag an inch forward. "Probably just as well, Cronuts don't travel very well and I asked Gabriel, that's my brother, to get me this when he got me the pass for this event and it was sent to me by FedEx and I am not sure if the dessert is expired. So you probably should not eat it, in case of food poisoning." 

"Oh come on, Dean, did he say he's poisoned it?" The security woman asked in an incredulous voice. 

"Charlie! Don't worry," Dean said, licking his lips nervously. "This is, uh, Castiel." 

"Shit," was all Charlie said, there was an appraising look like a full body search by eyesight. "Huh, he's um, more dreamy than I expected." 

Castiel could have sworn he heard Dean growl. 

"You want an autograph Cas?" Dean asked, his pen raised. 

"I didn't bring anything to sign," Castiel muttered. "I just came to see you, to tell you that ..." 

"Show me your chest," Dean commanded. 

Castiel took a step back. Dean's nostril was flaring and suddenly he dashed out his hand and grabbed a hold of Castiel's trench coat. 

"I gotta see it," Dean looked like he was trying to breathe through his mouth, he was almost panting. "I'll believe it when I see it with my own eyes." 

There was murmuring from the queue and people were filming. Castiel could hear someone in the background remark on Dean laying hands on a fan. Castiel did not want a scene. 

"Fine," Castiel frowned at Dean. He pulled aside his tie and unbuttoned a couple of buttons, pulling his white shirt aside to reveal a flash of green lettering. 

"The whole thing," Dean said in a trembling voice. 

Castiel obliged, the words Dean Winchester curled around his nipple, emerald and swirling and beautifully delicate. 

Dean looked like he might faint, but he got a grip of himself and then he raised his sharpie. 

"Nice work," Dean said. "Got that tattooed already huh, here, let me add something." 

Dean drew two little black angel wings either side of the words Dean Winchester. 

"Perfect," he said staring up at Castiel. 

Castiel stared back. 

"How come he gets so much time and a drawing!" The words floated across the room, where Amara was complaining bitterly to the handlers. 

Dean snapped out of his reverie. 

"Nice to meet you Castiel, thank you for coming all the way," Dean said, looking down at Castiel's pass. "Goodbye Mr Novak." 

"I ... I need to tell you that ...." Castiel frowned. "I'm your alpha." 

There was a collective gasp behind them. The line of fans were talking over each other. Castiel heard the words 'scandalous' and 'get off the stage' and 'he's the alpha'. 

"You'll find I am the alpha," Dean said with a smile that twisted the corners of his mouth into something that wasn't as pretty as Castiel was used to. "See you later Mr Novak." 

"But Dean, I ..." Castiel's hand was in the air before he had noticed it had left his trench coat pocket, his fingers half way to Dean's chest, the soft cotton warm beneath a fingertip. 

"Alright," Charlie was by his side, his wrist in her grip. She was an omega but she was strong and skilled and somehow she had vaulted over the desk and her expression was stern. "Move on now please Castiel. You are being rude."

Castiel shuddered, pulling his hand back in severe embarrassment. 

"I'm sorry," he said to Dean. "I'm sorry everyone. You are right, that was rude." 

He shoved his hands back inside his trench coat pockets and quickly moved out of the way. He didn't look at Dean or tell him to enjoy the Cronut (if he was willing to risk it) or look Charlie in the eyes or say bye to Claire and Kaia. He threw himself into the crowd of people, moving rapidly towards the first exit he could find. His chest hurt, his cheeks burned, his eyes burned too. 

Who did he think he was? Was he going to charge in and grab Dean and shove him to the floor of the stage and sit on him and seize his neck till he submitted? Was he that kind of alpha? Was he the sort of uncouth charicture from the unimaginative pornography he had seen while researching soul claims? Was he going to act in a way he had long despised and disavowed, the day he had discovered himself an alpha? Fate tattoos or not, Castiel fisted his own pockets, no scribble of magical ink on his skin was going to dictate his fate. Dean was beautiful and desirable and unattainable and Castiel was not going to torment himself for a whole year just to have Dean loudly proclaim to the world that he is an alpha again. 

Maybe Dean was an alpha. Maybe the tattoo was wrong. Or maybe Dean was an omega by biology but an alpha by nature and that was something Castiel could absolutely respect. It didn't matter to Castiel what Dean's designation was. It seemed arbitrary as much as gender. What mattered to Castiel was that look of fear and longing in Dean's eyes in Central Park, the satisfied groan when he buried his face in Castiel's lap. Maybe it wasn't so much an issue as Castiel being unable to reach Dean. Maybe Dean had to work through stuff on his own. 

Castiel was in the carpark by the time his heartbeat had finally slowed down. He was in his car, reversing out of the parking spot by the time his breathing returned to normal. His nose had told him that he couldn't smell Dean at all during their encounter. He must have worn suppressants. Bitter disappointment hollowed out Castiel's stomach, he would have at least liked to have smelled Dean. Maybe if he had been able to scent him properly, he would have been able to work out whether they were truly compatible like the tattoo suggested. Instead all he got was lights and foundation and the synthetic lingering scent of fake omega and anxious crowd. 

Castiel drove onto the highway, followed the signs to the interstate and headed home. 

Back to his town Angelfell, where movie stars and wide green eyes would be but a distant memory. He could forget Dean. Forget the claim. Get on with his life. Maybe there was someone else called Dean Winchester, who had apple green eyes and whose face could move him beyond all measure. Or maybe not. 

He could forget. 

Except for the name emblazoned over his heart, little dark sharpie angel wings and all.


	2. Chapter 2

It was the sort of restaurant that you didn't really go to for the food. The food was very fine of course and the service diligent but it was all about who else dined there. Gabriel was already at the table, Ruby and Meg either side of him, the two ballerinas poised and elegant as they squabbled over the cocktail menu. The production company was paying for the expensive meal to celebrate the end of Gabriel's production. Probably breathing a sigh of relief that Gabriel had pulled off a sold out show and no one had been hurt by the giant candy canon. Castiel was in town again for work reasons. The police department was paying for a nice hotel while he attended an important training conference. He had friends from the academy that he was going to get to see again. All those reasons made coming back to New York a little more palatable, though Castiel definitely avoided Central Park. 

"Did you carpool with that hot cop one state over?" Gabriel asked Castiel as soon as he sat down. 

"I tend not to categorise my colleagues by body temperature but if you are referring to Detective Henriksen, yes we did share the drive to New York," Castiel answered, leafing through the menu in bewilderment. Fortunately, he had a working knowledge of French so ordering was not too difficult. 

"He's a nice guy, right?" Gabriel gestured for the waiter to fill up Castiel's wine glass. "First omega officer of colour to make detective in his precinct? He's no Dean Winchester but ..." 

Castiel downed half his wine in a single gulp. He sighed and looked at his empty plate. 

"Shut up Gabe, your brother's forlorn," Meg jabbed her delicate looking but actually extremely sharp elbow into Gabriel's side. "Hey Cas, I'm rooting for ya. One alpha to another, I can teach you my tricks of seduction if you wanna up your game. See there's this pounce I like to do ..." 

"Does anyone at this table not know about my very personal claim tattoo?" Castiel ran his eyes around the table. 

Gabriel had the good graces to look sheepish. Ruby smirked, Meg batted her eyes, Gabriel's agent Naomi bit hard into a bread stick and Crowley the music producer sipped on his red wine. Castiel pursed his lips. 

"Cas, you know these guys well, they're family pretty much, I mean the amount of times we fight each other on productions alone reminds me of how our brothers used to carry on at home. So we've been brain storming for you, trying to come up with an idea of how to help you out," Gabriel was trying hard to sell the idea of him and his pals running interference on Castiel's personal life. 

"Gabriel, please, no meddling," Castiel said. 

"It's just not fair," Ruby suddenly spoke up. "There's him with his money and fame and cheekbones, and here's you with your falling-apart house, boring-ass life and cheekbones. It's not a fair fight, Cas. Gets my blood boiling, we gotta make sure you're at least making your claim on an equal footing. This whole telling him about the claim at a convention thing was a terrible idea. Like, you're not his fan, you're his alpha! If I ever meet my alpha back stage and he tried to claim me I'd pirouette kick him to the kerb. How would I know he's actually here for me as opposed to the 10 minutes of chorus dancing Gabriel deigns to assign me for each show? The lights of the stage can be dazzling and Dean of course couldn't accept you in an autograph queue, like, he probably thought you were some obsessed ...." 

Meg lashed out with her deadly elbow again. Ruby quietened with a pained 'oof'. 

"The fans were generally very nice," Castiel said. "I believe the perception that fans are over engaged to be a misconception. I have watched some of his films and I enjoyed them so I would not be averse to be called as such. I simply think we are from different worlds, and those worlds will not meet."

Gabriel nodded. "Yeah, about that ..." 

"We're all eating appetisers here today," Crowley drawled. "For one reason and one reason only. Gabriel chose this particular establishment to meet for lunch because a friend of mine works in the kitchens and this morning he told me that a particular order for his specialty Texan steak burger came through. Only one guy in New York comes to a classy place like this and orders a cheeseburger." 

Castiel sat up straight as Gabriel stared at the door and grinned. "Here he comes, right on queue." 

Castiel turned abruptly to see two men and two women enter the dining area. One of the men was very tall and handsome, his long hair partially covered by a beanie and his hazel eyes were smiling. He was hunched over a little, because Dean Winchester had his arm around his shoulder as they walked. It had to be Dean despite the cap pulled low and the huge scarf and the bulky coat. The bowlegs were unmistakeable. One of the women behind them Castiel definitely recognised too, it was the bodyguard named Charlie. The other was a pretty blond, with wind reddened cheeks and a friendly smile. She sniffed the air delicately and locked eyes with Castiel, her eyebrows raising. Castiel blushed, he could scent that she was an omega from this distance. She had a lovely rosewater and bread-and-butter-pudding scent. Castiel knew that since his claim tattoo had manifested, his own alpha scent had changed and probably deepened. He had no idea what he smelt like to omegas, but judging by the wide eyed looks and the number of times he was being stopped in the streets, it was probably not unpleasant to them. Castiel had tried to tone it down with more frequent showering and stronger deodorant, but he wasn't prepared to take suppressants. It was only going to be a year before the claim tattoo expired anyway. Dean walked past on the other side of the dining room without even registering Castiel's presence, too busy whispering into the ear of the alpha he was holding onto. The blond woman pulled on Charlie's sleeve, they spoke to each other briefly and Charlie turned and looked at their table. Her face stayed neutral but she called over a staff member and titled her head towards the back of the restaurant. 

"Damnit, VIP table," Gabriel clicked his fingers in frustration when Dean's party was quickly led out to the back of the restaurant and ushered past the starstruck diners. 

Castiel watched as a couple in smart suits were politely turned away from the part of the restaurant that was now off limits. Castiel could see from where he sat just the top of Dean's head and half of his friend's beanie behind a bunch of fresh cherry blossoms. 

"I'm not tall enough to see anything!" Gabriel said in frustration, standing up to peer over the barrier of black velvet ropes, ornamental furniture and muted lighting. 

"They're just trying to eat," Castiel said. "Gabriel, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but please ..." 

It was Ruby who interrupted. "Oh hey, we didn't order those," she exclaimed as suddenly their table was flooded with dishes and glasses. 

"Ms Bradbury sent these over, she says 'sorry about San Diego - have a drink on me'," the waiter said. "I hope the message means something to you." 

Gabriel grinned broadly. 

"She also says that she'll be over in just a moment to speak with a Mr Castiel Novak, if it is not too much trouble."

Castiel stood up. "Tell her I'll be over at the bar." 

His entire table complained, but Castiel glared at them. "So we can speak more privately." 

Castiel moved himself to the bar quickly and when questioned ordered plain tap water. The bar staff consulted each other hurried and finally decided to fill up a crystal glass with mineral water and slices of carved lemon threaded on a crystal pin. The pin clinked when Castiel took a sip to calm his nerves. 

Charlie was at his side within moments. 

"I hope this isn't going to end with me escorting you off the premises, Mr Novak," Charlie said brightly, though her words were intimidating, her tone was friendly. "Bit of a coincidence you being at Jessica's favourite restaurant." 

"I don't know who Jessica is and it is no coincidence that I am here," Castiel said looking honestly into her pale blue eyes. "My well meaning brother and his gossip mongering friends set me up. I didn't know he would be here." 

"Jessica's the omega who scented you out," Charlie smiled. "Here I was thinking the restaurant was really living up to their reputation for mouthwatering French pastries. It's okay, I could smell your panic when you saw him, I know you weren't expecting him." 

"I'm in law enforcement, you won't have to worry about me stalking your client."

"Oh I'm aware of your vocation, where you are stationed, your rank, your title, what car you drive. You're here for the training course right, I didn't think your precinct was large enough to have ..." 

"It's a joint thing between two precincts," Castiel murmured. "But I don't suppose I have to tell you, you've done your homework on me." 

"Of course," Charlie beamed. "You checked out okay, just so you know. I was concerned after what happened at the convention, but you're just an ordinary guy Mr Novak. With an unfortunate problem. You seeing a doctor about it?" 

"It's under control," Castiel said though guiltily he thought about all those calls from Dr Hannah Milton that he hadn't quite returned. Hannah had been alarmed when he had informed her that he did not intend to fulfil his claim. She wanted tests, benchmarks, even medication to forestall any ill side effects. 

"Sure it is," Charlie looked at him for a long while. "Hey I think I like you. Stoic type. If anyone's going to make a claim on Dean Winchester, they better be tough. Yeah, yeah, you don't need to tell me you have no intention to do so. Again. I'm a romantic at heart you know, I believe in all that fate brings true mates together stuff, so I'll see you around Castiel." 

She punched him on his bicep playfully, looking a lot younger all of a sudden, the casual blow left Castiel's arm throbbing. 

"Ouch," he said. 

"Sorry, Japanese Kung Fu training," Charlie winked. "Dean doesn't just hire me for my good looks, awesome jokes and ability to get a wifi connection anywhere." 

"He hired an omega who trained with the yakuza as a bodyguard?" Castiel said aghast. 

"Went there for the Manga, dated the wrong woman, ended up working as her enforcer, you know how it goes when you're in your early twenties," Charlie said lightheartedly. 

"No, I don't, things like that don't happen to me," Castiel blinked in utter confusion. "Nothing wild like that happens to me." 

Charlie burst out into laughter. "Then its about time it did, Castiel. Enjoy the ride." 

When Charlie had left to rejoin her friends, Castiel decided it was time for his exit too. He could see Gabriel and the gang enjoying their meal, going through a fair amount of champagne on Charlie's tab. Or possibly Dean's. Castiel decided that he didn't owe Dean any explanations or apologies for San Diego. Though it was tempting to go over and at least say hello, he didn't know what on earth he could say to Dean. The most important things he had already said, he had told Dean who he was and want he wanted. And it fell on deaf ears. Before the tattoo had ever appeared, Castiel had felt content in his existence. Sure he was a little lonely from time to time, but he had a fulfilling career, loving family and noisome friends. Who was Dean Winchester to make him pine and want and feel that odd sense of emptiness in his soul. He was just an image, a face, a stranger. 

With a frown, Castiel stood up, determined. He went up to a waitress and asked for his coat. She led him to the coat room and looked through the shelves. 

"I'm sorry, I can't seem to locate it," she was puzzled. "I think it might have been moved. Could you tell me what it looks like?"

"It's a trench coat," Castiel tried his best to describe the garment. "Long, beige." 

"Alright," she shook her gead. "I'm sorry its not here. Was it a particular brand? Burberry?" 

"Target," Castiel stated. 

"Oh, okay," she moved around the counter again. "Maybe you could come with me to the back room and we'll go have a look. Someone might have thought it was discarded." 

As they walked towards the backroom, a waiter tripped over his feet and tipped a glass of wine down Castiel's dress shirt. The two staff members tried to clean him off but the stain spread like a pink rose over his chest. They ushered him out of the dining room. 

"If you'll just stay here a minute, sir, I'll go get you some fresh clothes, we're so sorry, and I'll definitely find your coat," she said, her eyes round as she fled. He tried to tell her not to worry about it, but it was too late. He found himself seated inside the VIP area, in a darkened corner, and right in front of him was Dean Winchester, with his nose buried in an alpha's throat. 

"I gotta tell ya, something smells so good," Dean was saying, his words already slurred. "Damnit, I'm so hungry. How many burgers is it?" 

"Three. And honestly Dean I don't care about the burgers, but you gotta slow down on the beers okay. Sad drinking is not good for anyone. I'll make you pay for the burgers tomorrow, but now we gotta get you sobered up enough to go home," said the alpha, the one that Castiel thought might have been Dean's burger date. He was young and good looking and he seemed like a decent guy, keeping his hands up and letting Dean plaster himself over him without any salacious reaction. If anything, the alpha smelled concerned. 

"Want more," Dean whined. "Don't care if you make me work for it." 

Castiel clenched his fists. Dean was making a complete spectacle of himself. Jessica the blond omega stood up. "You take his left arm, I'll take his right..." 

She shoved herself under Dean before his companion could stop her, with an awkward twist of her back she sucked in a quick breath. 

"Shit," she exclaimed. "That did not feel right." 

The alpha dumped Dean unceremoniously onto the couch. Now the scent in the room was suddenly full of worry. 

"Jess, you okay?" He asked her. 

"I think I threw my back out a little, damnit," she cursed. "Can you help me? That hurts and I feel a bit nauseated all of a sudden." 

"Of course," the alpha was rubbing his thumbs in the small of her back. "Come on lets get some fresh air. Dean'll be fine, let him sober up, he'll be alright." 

"You guys go," Dean waved at them. "Go get Jess checked out, Charles can do it. It's ... 's important. I'mmmmmm fine." 

The alpha looked torn but he helped the woman out towards the door. 

"I'll just sit here and ...." Dean waited until his companions were gone before leaning over and heaving into a nearby potted palm. "Oh fuck, I need to get to the bathroom." 

He stood up on his magnificent legs, burped and shuffled towards the bathroom, went sideways and smashed his shoulder into a sconce on the wall. Almost threw up again and tried to keep walking. 

"Dean, let me help you, please," Castiel was beside him before he had allowed himself to make the decision to move. 

Dean looked at Castiel, his face a little puffy, his skin a lot blotchy but he was just as beautiful as Castiel remembered. 

"Oh hey, alpha Cas," Dean said. "Was, was just thinking about you. Hm, not that I think about you. Like every night. Was just drinking thinking about you. You make me wanna, wanna, oh no, wanna puke." 

Castiel put Dean's arm around his neck and carried him to the bathroom without a word. Dean detached himself as soon as he saw the cubicle and slammed the door shut and locked. There were some unpleasant noises and then there was a flush. He charged out of the cubicle and went to the sink, washing his mouth out and drenching his face with cold water. When he looked up again in the mirror his eyes locked with Castiel's. 

"Shit, I really gotta lay off the suppressants, or at least not drink when I'm using so much," Dean turned around and said to Castiel. "You look fucking real man." 

"I am real," Castiel said. 

Dean blinked slowly. "Not possible, you're a small town cop in Maine, the chances of seeing you again are next to none." 

"I don't know how else to convince you," Castiel said, holding his hands out palm up by his side. 

"Real you wear a trenchcoat, long and beige, kinda baggy," Dean said. "You're um just some guy in a Soho restaurant and you're helpful and you smell good." 

"Dean?" Castiel took a step back, then another. 

"No trench coat, not Castiel," Dean said, stalking forward, index finger poking into Castiel's chest. "No tattoo, not a problem then if I do this with you." 

"I'm ..." Castiel took in a sharp breath, his whole body froze then melted as Dean knelt down and buried his face in Castiel's crotch. He suddenly forgot his own name. 

Dean's mouth was warm and hot and felt damp through the fabric of his suit pants. His hands gripped Castiel's butt and clenched and unclenched firmly. His jaw was opened wide and he was trying to cram as much of the bulge into his maw as possible. Suddenly the room was full of sweetness. Castiel realised Dean must have cleared the suppressants out of his system. The sheen of sweat over his face smelt like summer peaches, the scent of cream rose up from lower down on Dean's body. Castiel tried very hard not to think about where the scent was emanating from. 

"I'm Castiel," he gasped. 

Dean took in a deep breath and then very slowly he peeled his face away from Castiel's groin. He stood up, his eyes blazing, licking his lips compulsively. 

"I know. I can smell you now," Dean said with a soft moan. "This isn't a drunken hallucination is it?" 

Castiel shook his head. 

"Then you gotta go," Dean said, leaning back against the bathroom sink, his hand reaching into the waistband of his pants. "I gotta do stuff Cas. You can't be here when I do them." 

Castiel nodded. It was already too tempting to just charge forward and bend Dean over the sink and lap up whatever was oozing copiously in his pants. Dean's hand came back up covered in wetness, his eyes widened as he looked at it. 

"So wet Cas," Dean sighed. 

Castiel turned around abruptly, the door of the bathroom clanged as he exited. The hostess standing in front of the door with his trenchcoat in her hands gave a soft yelp as he pushed past her. Her mouth gaping as she glimpsed the sight of Dean in the bathroom, licking his own fingers. 

She stood guard outside for a good hour and definitely avoided eye contact when Dean finally came out again, his cheeks red and his skin pale. 

"He left without his coat," she said timidly. "And your car is waiting Mr Winchester." 

Dean took the trench coat with a quick nod, walking to the garage. She received a humongous tip from Charlie. And if she saw Dean Winchester holding the coat to his face and sniffing deeply as he got into his town car, she never said anything to anyone.


	3. Chapter 3

It was very cold walking back to his hotel without his coat, but the wind and drizzle cleared Castiel's head a little. The creamy smell was still tormenting him, laying buttery over his palate as if he had been gorging on it. It was all just psychosomatic, Castiel tried to tell himself. Maybe the attraction was there between him and Dean and the idea that Dean was his omega had him losing his head a little, but he wasn't going to die without mating Dean, was he? Castiel laughed at himself, maybe he was picking up a sense of the melodramatic from Gabriel. He checked his phone as he entered the lobby, Henriksen was hanging out in his own room and asking how his lunch had gone. There were a few emojis that Castiel quite enjoyed and a friendly invitation to go out for dinner and a drink. Castiel was in no shape to go out, he suspected he reeked of pheromones after the encounter with Dean. It was that awkward twilight hour as the sun was setting early behind the towering skyline. Castiel texted Henriksen that he'd be happy to meet in the morning, before the conference started, maybe go for a run together. Henriksen sent back a playful reply about Castiel needing him to fend off all the big city omegas. Very carefully, Castiel selected a poop emoji and texted it back. 

The texting back and forth took Castiel's mind off things, but when he reached his hotel door, he found his keycard didn't work. Puzzled, he went down the stairs to reception. The man at the counter scanned Castiel's card and began apologising profusely. 

"I'm so sorry sir there was a plumbing issue with your room earlier today, we've had to go in and move your luggage out. You've been upgraded from our budget standard room to our VIP suite. Your luggage is all safely put away in your new suite and your car has been moved into valet parking. Here is your new room key and please enjoy the complimentary champagne and chocolate dipped strawberries." 

Castiel looked at the fancy keycard he was being handed, the hotel's logo gleamed on the weighty platinum card. 

"Since you're in a suite, you can enjoy all of our premium facilities in our Sky Club. The private gym, swimming pools, saunas and massages. Gourmet complimentary breakfast. Please enjoy our facilities and if there is anything else we can do to make your stay more comfortable, just let us know. Let me show you to your private lift."

Castiel was ushered into a very shiney, very reflective lift and whisked away to the top of the building. He was taken into a massive room and promptly left on his own. The hotel suite looked like a trendy New York apartment, all dark walls and industrial lights, greenery wrapped around reclaimed wood. Castiel walked through the spacious living room, found the master bedroom with its four poster bed and promptly fell on his face. He felt exhausted and anxious and wound up and hungry. It took a few minutes to work up the energy to head into the steam shower with its difficult to understand operating panel. Then he sat scoffing massive chocolate coated strawberries while flicking through channels on the flatscreen television discreetly tucked inside a cabinet facing his bed. He found Netflix and did the usual search and it wasn't until Dean's voice, cowboy drawl and all, sounded that Castiel could flop back onto the pillows and relax. And if his hand wandered a little too low and grasped a little too hard, it was only fair after having to watch Dean reach into his own pants. 

Fingering the tattoo on his own chest, Castiel came quickly and fell asleep. He dreamt of peaches and cream, freckles on milk chocolate skin. 

=*=*=*= 

"They won't let me come up," Henriksen said on the phone. "My pass doesn't work for your fancy roof gym." 

"Oh, I'm sorry about that, how about I come down and we go for a run before the conference?" 

Castiel was already dressed in his gym gear. He didn't expect to go to some fancy gym, so all he had to hand were old blue fleece pants that he was issued with from the academy, it had the Maine state emblem on the pockets and the white reflective stripes down the sides. Castiel felt a little self-conscious in his county police casual clothes, so he pulled his washed out volunteer firefighter t-shirt a little lower to hide the emblem on his pants pocket. 

"Nah, just come down and then I can go up with you, wanna check out the rich people sauna, see if it makes me sweat blue chips."

Castiel knew for a fact that Henriksen had gone to a prestigious private college overseas on scholarship exchange and that he wrote essays on social justice during their academy days that made professors weep with joy. Though he didn't mind Henriksen's playful banter about being a small town cop in the big smoke. Despite his humble demeanour, Castiel knew Henriksen's career was flourishing. If Henriksen wasn't head of his own investigatory department in a few years then Castiel would have proof the system was crooked. As it is Henriksen was the shining star officer of the local tristate area and he was a really nice colleague and good friend to boot. His exceptional foot chase speed was another reason Castiel liked him, he was the only cop Castiel could jog with who didn't want to murder Castiel at the end of the run. If not for Henriksen's utter conviction in Castiel's suitability for this special training program and the kickass application he helped Castiel compose, he was sure his tiny jurisdiction would have been overlooked completely. 

Henriksen also had the ability to look polished in gym shorts. When Castiel found him in reception, he was chatting amiably with a few people in suits, utterly nonplussed that he was in a tank top and sneakers, while their designer suits were pressed and starched. There was flirting going on too, the women in high heels and pantsuits were hanging on his every word, one of them was an alpha and she looked at him with such desire that even Castiel noticed. 

"So yeah, I'll definitely check out the bar this evening, maybe I'll see you guys there, thanks for the recommendation," Henriksen wound up the conversation smoothly, his admirers smiling and moving away. The alpha boss babe turned and gave Castiel a scanning look which he returned blankly, she winked challengingly and left. 

"The alpha, Josie, she happens to be District Attorney," Henricksen said to Castiel innocently. "Funny meeting someone related to our line of work so randomly just in a hotel lobby."

"Did you stage that whole meeting just now to appease her colleagues?" Castiel asked point blank as they entered the private lift using the super special exclusive key. "I thought the whole might see you at a bar tonight thing was a very nice touch." 

Henriksen's face fell and he looked at his toes sheepishly. 

"When?" Castiel smiled and asked blandly. 

"Last night, after we texted and you ditched me for complimentary strawberries. I texted her and we tested out the many features of the budget standard room. We've been corresponding by email back and forth, just as friends, she wants me to look at federal options for my career, she's thinking of applying for Washington. Says we could buddy up and study for the exams together." 

Castiel nodded. "Like a study buddy?" 

"Exactly," Henriksen grinned. 

"A ... study group ... is a big commitment," Castiel said after a moment's consideration. Henriksen looked at him like he wasn't sure if Castiel didn't mean more than he was saying. 

"It's not that serious. Like, I might just apply and see what the process is like, might not even take it if I'm accepted," Henriksen looked at Castiel expectantly. "And you know I like being where I am, a stone's throw from you ... and all my long term buddies. How would I get to poker night at your crumbling mansion if I'm on the Fed program?"

"Do what's best for you, when you went on exchange for college, we stayed in touch," Castiel said. "Your friends will be around regardless of where your career takes you, Henriksen."

"Victor," Henriksen pulled a face. "You know it was always Victor before I left and its Henriksen now. Come on Novak, does Balthazar get to be Bal because he took over from best friend duties when I left?" 

Castiel laughed, the finer points of social interaction often passed him by. Calling each other by their surnames was a habit he had picked up from working on the police force. All Castiel could do was shrug helplessly as Henriksen stared at him bemused. 

The elevator shot through the many levels and then suddenly the mirrored walls went transparent as they broke through to the roof level. It was a glass elevator, looking mirror like in the silver painted elevator shute. The elevator shot them past glittering pools and opened at the gym level. There was still another floor above them, it seemed, since the elevator doors were quickly closing with an arrow up sign. The two of them stepped out and Henriksen let out a low whistle. The gym felt like it was entirely outdoors, though it was half encased in glass walls and ceilings. It was full of greenery and there were real patches of manicured lawns upon which to do your squats or sit-ups. There were very few users on the premises, most of them were working out in pairs, some were obviously accompanied by smartly attired personal trainers. A discreet sign reminded users that the use of cell phones, photography and videography were all prohibited for the privacy and comfort of the patrons.

While Henriksen made for the free weights bench on the other end of the expansive gym, Castiel grabbed a complimentary towel and headed for the rowing machine. This corner of the gym didn't feature any mirrors and so was less popular with the muscle flexing type. There was only one guy with his back to him, wearing baggy gym clothes and labouring on a spin cycle, sunglasses on, airpods in, lost in his own purgatory of inclines and bpm readings. Castiel turned his back politely and pulled on the handlebars to start the machine. Quickly, the smooth motions soothed the ache in his muscles, giving his limbs a pleasant burn, it felt almost like being out on the lake in the early mornings back home. Castiel lost himself to the calming repetitive motions. After a couple of miles, Castiel's thoughts drifted to where it always seemed to go nowadays. He thought about Dean, the way his cheeks bulged when he chewed on stolen pastry, the way his jaw widened over Castiel's ... 

The rowing cord clanged loudly when the handlebar slipped out of Castiel's sweating palms. A little annoyed, he wiped his hands on his gym towel, upped the resistance setting and went to work again. Pushing hard with his thighs and stretching out his back as he pulled. Maybe another hundred thousand miles and he'll be too tired to think about Dean. It was New York City that was messing with his head, Castiel decided, he could even smell Dean, that heavy birthday cake like scent that made his heart sing. Castiel wiped his sweaty forehead on his own t-shirt, there was some sort of commotion going on behind him. 

"Hey, you might wanna ease up there, your heart rate's going through the roof," said a personal trainer standing just behind Castiel, whose shape he could vaguely see in the reflection of the glass as tall and looming. 

Castiel watched as the guy on the cycle machine stopped and took a huge drag on some sludgy green concoction his trainer handed him. 

"Can I get off now?" 

"No, another hour, help flush the toxins out of your liver," said the trainer mercilessly, walking away doing the pointing at his eyes and pointing at the guy thing, tapping on his watch.

"Damnit, Sammy, a man's got a hangover and alpha problems, gimme a break. I'm changing machines, my butt's sore from the bike seat." 

Castiel clenched up completely, he knew that voice. He ducked his head and tried to cover it with his gym towel when Dean fucking Winchester came and plopped down in the rowing machine next to him. 

"Hey," he gave Castiel a polite nod and bleary eyed started rowing. 

A couple of pulls later, he slowed down and rather comically slowly turned around to face Castiel again, lifting his sunglasses off his head. 

"Shit," Dean said slowly. 

"Castiel." Castiel corrected. 

Dean put his face in his hands. "Of fucking course."


	4. Chapter 4

"It's alright Dean, I'm done here, I have a conference to attend," Castiel slowed down his pulling. 

"No, its fine, I'll move machines," Dean said, trying to stand up but somehow wrapping the cord around his ankle and falling off the rowing machine altogether. 

Castiel watched like a hawk as Dean inexpertly untangled himself. Dean looked flustered and embarrassed by his fall. 

"You know what, you're right, you should move," Dean said, the awkwardness of his fall making him testy. "I train here most days when I'm in New York so I don't know how you are here but I'm not gonna runaway like some scared omega just because you have me cornered like prey." 

Castiel frowned at Dean, displeased. 

"You are not prey. If I was hunting you, you would know. And I tend to do that only to perpetrators of criminal activity," Castiel said firmly. "I'm only here by coincidence. Maybe you're used to people fawning over you but I assure you I have no intention to do so." 

"Good, great," Dean muttered. "Just so we're clear, just cause you're here, I'm not gonna ..." 

His eyes darted around the room to make sure they weren't going to be overheard. 

"I'm not gonna suck you off like some desperado. That was drunk Dean. This is sensible, fitness Dean, with awesome impulse control," Dean shook his head vehemently, wincing when his headache caught up with him. "Pfft, not getting on my knees for you, not today, Castiel." 

The way Dean said his name was weird, a little reverent, a lot angry. 

"For my part, I have no expectations of fellatio, as well," Castiel said haughtily, pulling hard on his bar. 

"Two guys sitting on machines, not sucking dicks," Dean nodded firmly and pulled at the machine furiously. 

Castiel finished his miles in record time and the scent pouring out of Dean was full of lemonade frustration and honeyed passion. Castiel found that it wasn't just his arms that were starting to ache, there were other rebellious parts of him aching for attention. Firmly, Castiel adjusted himself with a quick hand and headed for the nearest treadmill. He was an excellent runner, so he set the speed up high and sprinted like a man hunted. Within a minute or so, a set of stomping feet joined him at the next machine over. Dean gave Castiel a glare and set his treadmill to exactly one incline higher and one mile per hour faster. Castiel finished his warm up and dialled the speed up. 

Beep, beep, beep, Dean followed suit. The conveyor belt whirred manically on the two treadmills, at one point the fancy fitness watch on Dean's wrist started sounding an alarm and flashing red. Castiel felt the jarring in his knees, but he wasn't going to let Dean come out of this the better runner. There was a clattering sound and Castiel could see Dean stumble, he wasn't wearing the safety clip. Castiel grabbed the treadmill handles, jumped off and slammed the emergency stop on Dean's machine. Dean yelped and fell backward as gravity slammed into him, they ended up in a heap on the ground. Dean face down on the carpet and Castiel sprawled over his back, upside down. 

"I was fine," Dean grunted. "Don't spring that protective alpha crap on me!" 

"You were falling," Castiel growled into Dean's ankle. There was a drip of something there, running from thigh to back of knee to ankle bone and it took inhuman strength for Castiel not to lap at it for a taste. 

Dean rolled around and squirmed until he was on his back and facing up. Castiel was totally going to lift himself off but his arms were suddenly powerless and it was definitely not the heavenly scent pouring out from Dean's body, it was just too much rowing machine. 

"You gonna get off?" Dean raised an eyebrow. 

Castiel opened his mouth to reply but something suspiciously like a moan emerged so he snapped his jaw shut and grunted. Dean's eyes narrowed, he lifted a knee and pushed the sole of his toed trainers into Castiel's crotch, ostensibly to dislodge him - but all Castiel felt was blissful pressure and flexing toes. 

"I'm trying not to," Castiel said through gritted teeth. 

"Everything okay?" Two shadows crossed over them. 

Castiel looked up to find Dean's personal trainer wide eyed and staring at them and Henriksen was on the other end, holding his gym towel in front of his short shorts. Henriksen offered Castiel his hand and wrenched him off Dean. 

"Yeah, I'm alright Sam," Dean clambered to his feet quickly enough. "Just fell into a whole lot of dumbass cop." 

Henriksen stalked forward. "Hey, you wanna say that to me? I'm a cop too."

"Down Victor," Castiel said, closing the distance between him and Dean, so that they were chest to chest. "The insult was for me, only me." 

Henriksen shrunk back at the snarl in Castiel's voice. His face flushed maroon with pleasure at the use of his first name but he was looking at Dean with suspicion. "Oh ... aren't you that guy in the underwear ads?" 

"Dean, do you want me to help you fight him or just uh ask them to shut down and clear out the gym so you two can sort it out on the bench press or something?" Said the personal trainer. 

Dean tore his eyes away from Castiel's. "Don't, Sam."

Castiel blinked rapidly, he remembered the conversation from Central Park. The trainer was Dean's brother, Sam Winchester. Castiel felt something ease in his chest. 

"So who's this guy?" Dean asked, tilting his head towards Henriksen. "You guys book out the honeymoon suite?" 

Castiel glared at Dean. "An alpha and an omega can be just friends, you know." 

"I'm his boyfriend," Henriksen suddenly said. 

Castiel whipped around and looked at him in shock. 

"Yeah, honey, tell him," Henriksen grabbed Castiel's hand. "As if a hot alpha like you don't have like a dozen omegas and betas and probably alphas chasing after you. You're too late to the party hot underwear man. Novak is like so in demand with the omegas back in our home town. You better get in line, star dude." 

"Why, why are you talking like this?" Castiel gasped as Henriksen led him away. Dean's face was bright red. 

"You taste that, man, that's regret," Henriksen was still calling out, puffing out his chest and pulling faces at Dean. "That's the taste of A-grade missed opportunity. Come on Castiel, lets go hit the showers. I'll help you relax those muscles Hollywood tightened up for ya." 

"I am very uncomfortable with your current speech patterns," Castiel said as Henriksen and he rounded the corner and entered the afore-threatened showers. 

Henriksen was standing with his hands on his hips. "What the fuck Novak." 

"I could say the same thing." 

"That's Dean Winchester, Mr America, Batman Reincarnate, why, just tell me why, is a MCU lead pouring out mating scent at you?" 

"He is?" 

"I almost wet my shorts walking into that room, like that alpha Sam is related to him so he's immune but for the rest of us that was like having porn poured into your brain via your nose. And you're pretty musky yourself." 

"I'm sorry, I must reek," Castiel looked at his himself in alarm. "I must shower." 

"Yeah, and go grab the one on the other end and locked the fucking doors," Henriksen said. "I'll stand here and ward off the omegas. Gah, can't take you anywhere." 

"If ..." Castiel called out through the locked door uncertainly. "If Dean comes ..." 

"You want me to hold him off or let him in?" Henriksen called back. 

"I ..." Castiel sighed. "I don't know."

"Oh man, you're fucked Novak," Henriksen replied. "So fucked." 

Henriksen was still complaining when they had both showered and dressed in complimentary spa robes. Neither had the foresight that their clothes would be soaked in so much mating scent that they were practically ruined. So they bagged the lot and padded towards the elevator in fluffy white slippers and long bathrobes with incredible cotton thread counts. 

"Why did you tell him you were my boyfriend?" Castiel asked as they waited for the lift. 

"I could smell how much you wanted him and once I figured out who he was I thought a little jealousy might even the odds a little for you?" 

Castiel rolled his eyes. 

"What, you'd be lucky to have me as a boyfriend," Henriksen said with a strange look in his eyes that Castiel entirely missed because the elevator door was opening. 

There was a towering rack of clothes occupying the entire lift and an apologetic hotel employee said "Sorry, I don't think you'll both fit." 

"You go ahead," Henriksen said kindly. "I'm gonna hit the saunas, you go get dressed, I'll see you in the lobby." 

Castiel would have declined out of politeness and waited for another elevator, but it had been a trying morning and he really needed to get back to him room, maybe there was time for one more Netflix viewing and a few minutes to calm his flesh. So he waved bye to Henriksen, got into the elevator and tapped his card. 

To his surprise, the elevator was going up first rather than down. Castiel stood and watched with awe as a whole other vista came into view. It looked like a penthouse with wraparound glass, floating in the New York skyline like a jewel. The hotel employee with the huge clothes rack pushed the trolly of garments out into the luxurious foyer then held the lift door with one hand. 

"Mr Winchester, after you," he said politely. 

Dean, standing in the back corner of the lift, previously covered up by the rack of clothes, shook his head. Castiel watched dumbfounded as Dean pressed the button to close the elevator door. Dean scanned a gold card and pressed another button. The elevator ascended as they stood in utter silence. The final floor was the very top of the roof. There was nothing to look at but sky. Dean slammed his fist into the alarm and then slammed Castiel into the glass wall. 

The beeping of the alarm was monotonous and Dean whispered a single question into Castiel's ear. When the voice of the concerned hotel security staff came over the intercom, informing them that a repair crew was on their way, all Castiel could do was hiss out a loud 'yes'. Then Dean turned the alarm off and the elevator was still jammed. And the morning sun was glaring down and Castiel's robes were flung away and Dean was under the hem and sucking on Castiel's dick ruthlessly. Dean's finger's clawed over the tattoo of his own name on Castiel's chest, his teeth dragged on Castiel's flesh, his tongue scooped and pressed and scraped. He swallowed Castiel down, just a few long hard sucks and Castiel was popping his knot and pouring hard and fast down Dean's throat. The bulge of the knot wedged into the roof of Dean's mouth and Dean moaned and stuck his own hands into the back of his pants. Pushing down the hem of his soft grey leggings in his haste, Castiel could see the darkened patch on the clinging fabric, in the floor mirror he watched Dean cram his fingers into himself, sobbing as he dampened his own pants with relief. 

=*=*=*= 

Castiel stood in the back of the elevator as the doors opened again, Dean limping out into the penthouse suite and heading for the bathroom. 

Castiel stood in the back of the elevator as the doors opened once more, the face of the confused elevator repairman woman (thankfully a beta) curious as he pushed past her. 

Castiel stood in the back of the elevator, the public one, in full dress uniform. His cap gleaming, his notebook at the ready, his pen in his hand. He was prim and proper and handsome, with a small relieved smile lingering at the corner of his mouth. The other police officers flooded in and the elevator doors closed.


	5. Chapter 5

The conference went well, thought Castiel, he took a copious amount of notes and during one of the discussion sessions when the post-lunch lull beset the other police officers, Castiel was able to ask insightful questions and solve the scenario posed by the instructor. In his own quiet, unassuming manner, Castiel won over his colleagues and Henriksen was beaming by the end of the conference. 

"You’re firing on all cylinders,” Henriksen looked at him as they grabbed coffee in the hotel lobby. “Must be the early morning work out huh?” 

Castiel tried not to blush too hard, or move, or breathe while Henriksen narrowed his eyes and applied full investigatory gaze upon him. Henriksen leaned a little closer and took a tiny sniff. Castiel held still, he had washed very thoroughly after disembarking from he lift. His uniform was fresh out of his suitcase and neatly pressed, so there really was no way ... 

“No way,” Henriksen wrinkled his nosedramatically. “Is that ... happiness?” 

“I’m always happy,” Castiel said primly. 

“Content, sure, but this is like candy hearts and vanilla cake sort of happy,” Henriksen frowned. “Did something happen after the gym?”

Castiel tugged at his neatly buttoned up collar. “I um rode the elevator to the top floor and there was ... a. view.” 

“You’re doing that squinting batting your eyelashes thing when you are obfuscating,” Henriksen pointed out. “Actually, come to think of it, that Sam guy came around to the sauna and asked if I’d seen his brother. Said he was running late for a photoshoot? Just when you were supposed to have headed back down to your room. Were you with him?” 

Castiel looked at his coffee cup, swallowing the Americano down in a hard gulp. 

“Did you fuck Dean Winchester?” 

“No,” Castiel said quickly, his tongue smarting from the scolding brew. “Not penetratively.” 

Henriksen kept his face still, but a little dribble of coffee ran down his chin while he silently choked. 

“Tell me its the soul tattoo or whatever. You’re not the first guy I’d imagine deflowering an omega in an elevator.” 

Castiel gave a martyred sigh. “Gabriel?”

“Yeah, he emailed me the night he found out about the tattoo.” 

“Okay,” Castiel drew himself up haughtily. “Did he in fact take out an advertisement in the local paper, because a claim tattoo is a very private thing and Dean doesn’t want ...” 

“So its Dean now huh?” 

“No, it’s not Dean. Or baby. Or my boyfriend. And it certainly isn’t my omega,” Castiel was quietly furious, his face had gone a little paler than his usual olive complexion and his eyes were blazing. “I am sure lots of people enjoy oral sex in elevators and spontaneously copulate all over the place. Just because it isn’t something I usually partake of, it doesn’t mean I am instantly irrevocably bonded to another human who for all intents and purposes is merely a stranger. Sex happens, just because I don’t have a lot of it, doesn’t mean its time for a newsletter when I do!” 

Henriksen put up his hands in a surrendering, appeasing gesture. “Okay.” 

Castiel deflated. Henriksen put his arm over his shoulder. 

“You really like him, don’t you?” Henriksen said softly. 

“I don’t know what there is to like, apart from a glorious face and a body that evokes rare responses in me. Our relationship, if it can be termed that, has thus far been merely physical,” Castiel said in a downcast voice. “I know so little about him, why he only plays the alpha in public, why he seems so frustrated by my claim and yet so amicable to commit intercourse in private. I ... I ...” 

Henriksen was looking increasingly sympathetic. “I think we should get you a drink, not coffee.” 

“I can’t, we’re driving back tonight,” Castiel reminded him. 

“Yes, but I can do the driving,” Henriksen offered. 

“Well...” Castiel was about to agree when a tiny elderly lady came up to them. 

“Excuse me, are you two police officers?” she asked sweetly, thrusting a leather wallet into Castiel’s hand. “May I hand this in to you? I found it left on the counter over there.” 

“You could give it to reception,” Henriksen suggested. 

“Oh no, I think this handsome young officer knows exactly who it belongs to, it’s been left by the good looking omega lad who was staring at him from behind the green wall the whole time you two have been talking here.” 

Castiel opened the wallet with only slightly shaking hands, there was a gold room key inside and a drivers licence for one Dean Winchester. 

Henriksen clapped Castiel on the shoulder. “What are the chances? Better do your duty.” 

Castiel straightened his back and headed to the private elevator like a man doomed. 

=*=*=*=

Dean closed his robe when he opened the door to find Castiel mid-knock. Castiel stood on the doorstep of the suite, holding out Dean’s wallet like a shield in front of him. 

“Mr Dean Winchester,” Castiel said monotonously, waving the wallet for emphasis. “I’m here in an official capacity.”

“I’m sure I’ve seen a video or two that starts like this,” Dean said incredulously, his eyes lingering on Castiel’s uniform. “Come on in.” 

“If I come inside, I will not be mating with you,” Castiel stated for the record. 

“Yeah I got it, if you come inside, no coming inside,” Dean said sarcastically. “You do realise I’m not going to randomly have sex with you.” 

“Again.” Castiel pursed his lips. 

“Hey look buddy, takes two to knot in an elevator,” Dean crossed his arms. “My jaw is still aching.” 

Castiel blushed intensely, his fingers reaching out reflexively toward Dean’s face. “Are you alright?” 

Dean took a step back and next thing he knew they were alone together in Dean’s suite. There were beautiful objects everywhere the eyes could see but Castiel’s gaze was drawn to only Dean. Dean was wearing a bathrobe, thick grey and huge. His calves were naked and his feet were bare and presumably underneath the scant clothing the rest of him was naked. Dean’s hair was wet and he smelt mostly of shampoo and satisfaction. The air was warm and there was a lemon myrtle scent pervading the rooms. Dean led Castiel into the living room, where flames flickered in a glass fireplace, there were armchairs positioned facing each other. They sat down, like perfectly restrained men and Dean even offered him a bottle of mineral water. 

“So what can I do for you officer?” Dean asked in a mock sultry voice as he watched Castiel sit down stiff backed, his hands on his knees.

“I need you to identify as the owner of the lost property that was handed in to me, can you confirm your date of birth and residential address?” 

“Oh man, what address did I use for the id,” Dean sighed. “Look, I don’t remember. Probably my mom’s house. I move around too much to recall every address.” 

“But you can confirm your birthday?” 

“Hey look, it’s got my photo on it, you used the card to get up to this suite, you know its mine,” Dean said. “Why’s it got to be so by the book?” 

“Because, I have already had an inappropriate liaison with you, I must do this properly.” 

“It happened, it was hot, I got no regrets, do you?” Dean snatched the wallet out of Castiel’s hand and flung it onto the coffee table carelessly. 

“It might not be a big deal to you,” Castiel reached for the wallet. “But it is to me.”

Dean batted his hand away. “Are we even talking about the wallet? What, you think I just get on my knees for any alpha going my way?” 

“For all I know, yes,” Castiel panted. 

“Well, that’s an assumption,” Dean muttered darkly. “Great, I’m being claimed by an asshole alpha. I thought you were different.” 

“Different to what?” Castiel was so furious now he clicked his pen off and closed his notebook, stowing them away in his jacket pocket. “Different to the toxically masculine alphas you play on tv? Or different to the other alphas who by age of forty have at least had sex with one or more omegas?” 

Dean’s eyes widened as he worked his way through Castiel’s sentence. 

“You think when this mark manifested it came with an operating manual?” Castiel pointed at his own chest. “You think its easy going up to some random famous person and telling them you’re their alpha? Or to pop a knot in front of another person for the first time, in an elevator, when your recurring nightmare is falling?” 

“Yeah, that sounds real hard Castiel,” Dean countered. “About as hard as spending your entire career wearing suppressants and playing an alpha so that you don’t get typecast into all the B grade roles. So that on your way up in the industry, no sleazy producer is going to try and get you to couch audition as the meek omega of his dreams. So that your entire fan base isn’t going to be up in arms if you are suddenly branded to be bonded to an alpha cop from nowheresville.” 

“Angelfell!” Castiel raised his voice too. “My home town has a name. And its not a brand, it’s a tattoo manifested by chemical reaction in the epidermis as a result of hormonal changes. And you wouldn’t know anything about what its like to wake up with one out of the blue!” 

“Oh yeah?” Dean tugged at his robe angrily. “How fucking wrong you are, alpha. First of all, for the record, write this in your little note book if you care to, your knot is the first knot I’ve taken in an elevator. Or in general for that matter! Not counting the freaking silicon toys I about wrecked myself on because ever since Central Park I can’t get you out of my head. I couldn’t sit on the bike machine this morning because last night, after fumbling around with you in the bathroom, I was so worked up I had to ride a knot to sleep. And Castiel, fucking Castiel, you’re right here, right fucking here.” 

Castiel stared at the blue gleam of letters on Dean’s chest. They were iridescent and finely stylised, in the precise shape and size of his siganture, blue butterfly bright letters spelling out the word Castiel. 

Dean breathed harshly through his nose. 

Castiel reached out and carefully felt Dean’s warm skin pulse beneath his name. He should have expected this, a part of Castiel’s mind was still methodically ticking over. Didn’t the soul bond lore say the alpha would have a tattoo of the omega’s name and the omega would manifest the alpha’s name? Why was it such a surprise to see his own name glimmering on Dean’s chest then. Castiel thought back to the convention he had attended, the way Dean said his name with such emotion. His name had manifested on Dean’s skin, Dean would have had no idea what he looked like or who he was, except by his somewhat unique name. Dean didn’t have the advantage Castiel did, he wouldn’t have been able to find him as easily since Castiel was nobody ... 

“Charlie vetted me because she looked up my name,” Castiel said in sudden understanding. “Sam knew too.”

Dean lowered his head. Castiel’s fingers traced over his own name in awe. “I’m your alpha Dean.” 

Dean bit his bottom lip, his eyes flickering up to meet Castiel. 

“No Cas, we don’t know each other, we don’t have anything in common,” Dean said. “My world can be chaotic, ridiculous, frenzied. You might really want to mate me, but you don’t love me, you don’t know me.” 

Castiel nodded slowly. “I understand Dean.” 

“If you want, we could uh, the bedroom’s right there,” Dean offered in a small voice. “I really gotta say I do have a thing for uniforms and you’re absolutely gorgeous. And if you want, I could, you could knot me. Properly. It would feel good and when you go it would be no hard feelings.” 

Castiel considered the offer carefully. He stood up slowly and shook his head. “I don’t think that would be a good idea, Dean.” 

He offered his hand politely and Dean shook it. 

Dean’s hand was warm and a little damp and firm. Castiel put his cap back on his head and walked out of the door. 

He didn’t speak much on the drive back to Maine. Henriksen fell asleep with his head pressed to the passenger side window. The highway was dark with gleaming reflective stripes and with every mile between him and Dean, the man he wasn’t in love with, his chest ached a little more. 

It was already March and soon twelve months will pass and his name would fade from Dean’s skin and certainly Dean would have forgotten him long before then.


	6. Chapter 6

In April, Castiel received an official notification that both he and Henriksen had been successful in their application for the special placement program. The tedious wait begun for the fateful phone call that would come to inform him of his pickup date. There was just enough distractions from his work to keep Castiel's mind off Dean during daylight hours. In May, Samandriel began his cadet placement in Castiel's precinct so that suddenly there was three of them in the tiny police station and Castiel no longer had to write on the glass door of the office (adjoining the tourist information centre) his estimated time of return every time he went on the beat and Donna went out to grab lunch. Samandriel had grown up in the village and was something of a protege to Castiel, having long admired Castiel's uniformed presence from back in the days when Samandriel was still working in his family owned fried chicken restaurant (and both Castiel and Donna had been fond of the homemade gravy). By June, Mr Mark Cain was back from his annual overseas holiday, reoccupying the closest residence to Castiel's sprawling lot and reopening the all organic butchery in town just in time for the coming of fall which was the busiest tourist season of the year. Summer was peak real estate sales time for the village and Balthazar, being the only local agent, was a little scarce. Still, every Friday night, they gathered in Castiel's house for a casual dinner and then card games. Whenever Gabriel had the time to be away from Broadway he joined them and Henriksen often drove for a handful of hours just to play cards and crash in Castiel's guest room. Life had gone on as before, with the only change being Castiel's growing private misery and monthly appointments with Dr Hannah Milton. 

"I'm really very unhappy about your vitamin D levels, but that's the least of your problems," Hannah said, pushing the sheafs of paper neatly printed with his blood test results across to Castiel. "While your vital organs: liver, kidneys, lungs are holding up well, your hormone levels are only good in the sense that they would qualify for special interest studies in medical text books. Your blood pressure is elevated, your cortisone levels are through the roof and truly I fear for your testicles." 

Castiel cringed and shrunk back from the doctor's desk. 

"Have you considered dating an omega, any omega, just to give your body a break?" 

Castiel shook his head. 

"Alright, well, there are medical options, your insurance would cover top of the range suppressants. And trust me Castiel, I would not recommend the use of medication unless the benefits outweighed all other considerations." 

"I am using topical suppressants," Castiel said with quiet conviction. "And I would like to stick to just those." 

"But oral medication works systemically and their effects are more prolonged and you wouldn't have to remember to wear them and they don't wash right off..."  

"If you are referring to the incident three weeks ago at the pool, I assure you it won't happen again," Castiel blushed hotly. "I am taking precautions."

He had been called to the local swimming pool to deal with a parking issue when an elderly swimmer ran into trouble. Castiel had dived in to pull him out and of course the ambulance was called. However, while the swimmer turned out to be okay, Castiel's topical suppressant had been washed off and about five omegas, the pool operator included, had to be aerosol sprayed to keep off him. The ambulance medic, Inias, called Hannah's surgery for help and she had to jab him with a needle full of suppressants to clear his system enough for the omegas to lose interest and walk off. Hannah, an omega herself, was forced to wear a suppressant soaked face mask so that she would not also succumb. The whole scene made for salacious reading on the village facebook account. 

Hannah looked at Castiel dubiously. "And what do you mean by precautions?" 

"I have placed an order with a reputable and discrete online business, it was recommended to me by Gabriel," Castiel said demurely. "I paid for expedited shipping." 

"How very ... organised of you," Hannah tried to smile. "And while I appreciate the initiative, biology is really not something you can tame with trickery. The most significant sex organ is up here, not down there." 

Castiel tilted his head as Hannah gestured to his temple. He blinked and gave her a hopeful smile. 

"I think I understand," Castiel said appeasingly. "I will make more liberal use of Netflix, maybe buy a DVD player even. The wi-fi at my place can be unreliable."

"Castiel, you should reach out to Dean," Hannah said, exasperated. "You could consummate the bond sexually, as your doctor, I recommend it." 

"I can't in all good conscience use Dean for sex when he has no intention of being with me in the long term," Castiel said firmly. "It would be unethical because for me it would not just be sex." 

Hannah looked at Castiel. "In that case, I will take matters into my own hands." 

They had known each other since school days, though Hannah was several years ahead of him. He had seen her name on the honour rolls and heard tales of her scheming from his peers. She was a determined and clever woman and not to be trifled with. 

"What would you do?" 

"Stock up on injectable suppressants for starters, contact the local hospital and advise them to be well stocked in case you need to be admitted, and of course, as a matter of last resort ask Donna to persuade you."

Castiel frowned at her. "You will not utilise Donna." 

"Go see Dean, get your numbers right on these results and maybe I won't." 

"There is such a thing as privacy and confidentiality," Castiel glared, Hannah glared back. 

"It's not private information if it was in Balthazar's Friends Of Cassie newsletter," Hannah sat back, triumphant. 

Castiel stood up. "Give me a few weeks and I'll see what I can do." 

"Good," Hannah nodded at him. "And Castiel, get some sun will you?" 

Castiel swept past her, putting on his cap so he could go back on duty, having taken his lunch break to attend his medical appointment. Not that issuing parking fines was going to eat up his entire afternoon, especially since he knew where Balthazar liked to park his prestige car in blatant breach of the 2 hour limit. He had long suspected the existence of the newsletter, but to hear it confirmed by Hannah was just a little bit more infuriating. His friends were well meaning but they were also meddling assbutts. 

Contacting Dean was an awful idea. What on earth would he say to the guy. He had turned Dean down more than once when he had offered sex. Even Castiel didn't quite know why the idea of using Dean for sex, and surely Dean would be using him for sex back, felt so wrong to him. It wasn't some romantic notion necessarily that he would not have sex without love. It was an instinctual feeling, a little related perhaps to the way Dean's skin was electric to touch. The way every contact between them, every touch, however casual, seemed somehow intrinsically imbued with meaning. If he was to claim, he would do it right, or not do it at all. 

The village centre was built around a pretty little park full of seasonal flowers and deciduous trees. In the spring the grounds were filled with daffodils and tulips for the annual bulb festival. In summer, the trees stretched out leafy canopies over the bubbling fountains and ornamental fish ponds. By fall, the whole park would be awash with colour. It was a hot June day and Castiel was a little self conscious walking in the sun, past the post office (where Daphne the postal worker smiled at him) and the flower shop (where Kevin the florist waved), cutting through the fernery on his way to the other side of the commercial strip, where the real estate agency was right next door to the bakery. There was a gleaming black car parked under the shade of a peach tree, with sleek lines and low slung wheels. It was, even to Castiel's novice eye, a sexy car. Business must be good, he thought, Balthazar has brought a new car. The corner of his mouth curing up, he took out his official note pad and wrote a ticket, bending over the bonnet of the vehicle to lift the windshield wiper so he could stick the ticket underneath it. It was a long reach and he had to stick out his butt and plaster his chest to the warm metal ... 

"Do not put a hand on her," someone ducked out of the bakery, yelling out with his mouthful. “Don’t care how hot your ass looks.” 

Castiel turned, half leaning over the car still, to see a man holding a stack of pie boxes, a half eaten slice of cherry pie balanced on top. He was wearing sunglasses, one of those narrow brimmed hipster hats, a striped shirt, shorts and boat shoes. The freckles on his cheeks were a little more numerous than Castiel remembered, his jawline sharper than ever but it was unmistakably Dean Winchester. 

Who said something like another shocked and muffled "Ass?" 

"Cas, Castiel," Castiel leaned back on the glossy black car, the leather of his handcuff attachment making a gentle noise on the metal of the door. “It only rhymes with ‘ass’.” 

"I know your name," Dean stalked up to Castiel, boxes of pie shuddering with every angry step, his eyes dipping as his eyelashes fluttered furiously. "Somehow I haven't managed to forget."

Castiel judged by the teeth-grinding intensity of Dean's words that the tattoo of his name hadn't faded from Dean's chest, yet. 

"Take a road trip, forget about stuff, go see all the pie places, Sam'll gimme a pass for pie, check out this place Charlie found it has great reviews," Dean muttered darkly. "Had to know an all you can eat pie trip was too good to be true. They told me you were going to work on a special program, not a traffic cop anymore. What are the chances of running into you, Maine is a pretty big place." 

"I'm sorry if this meeting is awkward for you," Castiel tore the ticket out of his booklet and handed it to Dean. "Please enjoy your stay in Maine." 

"This is for overstaying in a 2 hour spot, I've barely been here for 20 minutes," Dean looked at Castiel. "I'm not paying it." 

"You can afford it Dean, think of it as going to the town's gardening revenue," Castiel said. "And you are a little far from the kerb." 

"Nah uh, I demand to see your manager," Dean retorted. "And I want compensation, for um, letting my pies get warm and stealing my pie eating time." 

"You are being ridiculous Dean," Castiel added. "I'm a cop, I don't haver a manager." 

"Rip up the ticket Cas," Dean said. "Or else." 

"Or else what?" 

"Or else I protest, you're gonna have to arrest me Cas," Dean said. "And that probably means manhandling me, detaining me, cuffing me, taking me to the holding cells. Imagine what will happen there, you and me, cuffs and so many stiff metal bars." 

Castiel's eyes widened. "I'm not sure if that is a threat or a sexual fantasy that your are describing." 

"I'll leave that to your imagination," Dean hissed. 

Castiel sighed. "There's two other police officers in this entire town. One of them has been in the job for a month, so I outrank him. I am technically of the same rank as Officer Hanscum but she has been in her role longer, so I suppose you could speak to her." 

"Oh, I will, take me, to her," Dean demanded. 

Castiel rolled his eyes and obliged. 

Donna stared at the two of them as they argued for about half an hour regarding the parking ticket. Samandriel was so round eyed to see Dean Winchester that he was paralysed with indecision about whether it would be unprofessional to run home, grab as much superhero merchandise as he could and ask for them all to be signed. Donna took the opportunity of the argument to open several pie boxes and sample them. She was half way through Dean's stash when he finally turned away from Castiel for a moment and realised her grave crime. 

"You're all in on this together," Dean exclaimed. "You know what, I get it, small town, star cop, you're not going to listen to me." 

"Actually Mr Winchester, Dean, if I may, sir," Donna gave him a charming smile which was only a little marred by the chocolate pumpkin pie crumbs on her chin. "I am very willing to listen to the details of your complaint, write everything down and refer them to our regional headquarters for an unbiased opinion but you know its an awful lot of paperwork and I don't think I can do it on an empty stomach." 

"You ate half my pies!" Dean exclaimed. 

"So that leaves the other half, Samandriel can go get some coffee for us all and we can go through the rest while you detail your concerns." 

Dean threw his hands up in the air. "You know what, I'm out, come on Cas, got something in the car for you. Then I'll go." 

Castiel followed Dean out onto the street. 

"It's not something I was gonna like hunt you down to give back to you, just a coincidence I didn't throw it away," Dean opened the boot of his car, rifling through a Chanel duffle bag, pulling out his clothes and pages of scripts and then a beige bundle. "Just had it laying around, you may as well have it back." 

Castiel looked at the familiar fabric, it was his trench coat. The one he had left in the restaurant in NYC that time he and Dean made out in the bathroom. 

"Oh," Castiel said in surprise. "I've already replaced it, got another one from Target." 

Dean snatched the garment back. "Fine, I'll keep it then. It's so ... handy. Good for rainy days." 

"It's not weather proof." 

"Warm." 

"Not particularly." 

"It smells good okay," Dean whispered angrily. "I lie on it and I ... I ..." 

Castiel pulled the trench coat from Dean's hands, the garment unfurled and something flesh coloured, bulbous and huge clattered to the ground, rolled under the Impala and emitted a faint buzzing sound. 

"I'm just gonna ... go" Dean pulled the coat back, opened his car door, slid in without another word, inserted his key and turned the engine. 

The Impala made a gurgling noise and failed to start. 

Dean frowned at Castiel through the wound up window. Castiel shrugged. When Dean existed the vehicle again to check the car's engine, Castiel got down on his knees and reached under the car to retrieve the sizeable artificial knot Dean had dropped. It took a minute to work out how to turn the vibration off. Dean stood, scarlet cheeked and stern faced. 

"The ignition wire has been cut," Dean looked at Castiel. "They cut baby." 

Castiel lifted his eyebrows. "That's a felony, tampering with a motor vehicle." 

"This is a serious crime Cas, I want justice for her," Dean repeated. "I'm not leaving this town until it is done." 

"We can file a report and we'll contact you in due course ..." 

"Not leaving, for baby, I have all the time in the world," Dean reiterated. 

"It's getting dark Dean, you want to stay the night in town?" Castiel asked. "Is that such a good idea with ... with me around?" 

"Oh, please, I have self control," Dean said challengingly. "Long as you do." 

"Of course," Castiel said primly. "Fine, have it your way, let's get you a place to stay for the night. I'll request CCTV footage and we should find out who did it by the morning." 

"Gonna pull a late one tonight, Cas?" 

"Is that a sexual innuendo?" 

"Of course not," Dean gathered his leftover pies. "Get to work officer." 

"I'll call this in and then I'll get your accomodation sorted." 

"Not gonna invite me to stay at your place?" Dean said slyly. 

Castiel knew it wasn't becoming for an officer, but he still poked his tongue out. 

"Tempting," Dean winked maliciously. 

Castiel decided not to speak to Dean on the walk to the accomodation. 

Rowena McLeod operated the only commercial short term stay in Angelfell. Most tourists rented out holiday houses but since it was the busy summer period, those were booked out weeks if not months in advance. Rowena’s house was a sprawling mansion not far from the town centre, with views of the botanic gardens. 

"Oh hello Castiel," she greeted him cheerfully as she opened the door. "Why what an unexpected pleasure."

"Hello Rowena, I need a room," Castiel said, side glancing Dean who was peering at the ornate wall papered hallway behind Rowena curiously. 

"Why Castiel, you know I don't usually hire out rooms for lovey dovey couples by the hour, but for you and this fine omega, I could possibly entertain the idea ...." 

"Just for him, for Dean." 

"Dean, is it?" Rowena looked at Dean closely. "Oh, the Dean?" 

"What Dean?" Castiel said with dread in his voice. 

"Movie star Dean, the one your heart tattoo is for, read about it on the community notice board," Rowena sighed. "How very romantic, is it fate that brings him here?" 

"Vandalism," Castiel said grimly. 

"For the record, I hate your town," Dean said. "Even if it does have good pie." 

"We have more than good pie, but alas, you will not be able to enjoy the delight of McLeod Mansion," Rowena sighed. "I'm afraid we are closed. At capacity. No vacancy. Such a pity." 

"The parking lot's empty," Dean pointed out. 

"Oh yes, of course, because we are full of ... not customers, pests. Pest control, my son Fergus is just now fetching the chemicals from the basement, very bad to be around during fumigation, I could not possibly rent out a room to you under such conditions. Not in good conscience." 

Castiel was frowning intensely at Rowena. 

"Castiel has a large house and it is certainly not falling part, he could host you," Rowena said shutting her door with a wink. "I wish you both a good day. You will knot be disappointed in his hospitality. If you knot what I mean." 

Dean closed his eyes and put up a finger. "Don't say anything, just take me home." 

Castiel was breathing deeply through his nose in attempt to calm himself. He stalked his way across the park, leading Dean to the patrol car parked on the side of the road. Dean sat with his last remaining pie box on his knees while Castiel drove in silence. Neither of them daring to make eye contact. The large fake knot rested on top of the folded trench coat on the armrest between them.


	7. Chapter 7

Castiel drove the police cruiser off the highway, despite there being no discernible landmark, or any signs of human inhabitation around. Everywhere there was darkened woods and the road they travelled was long and winding. 

"This is where I would normally call the cops about being taken into the wilderness by an unstable alpha, but uh seems a little redundant right now," Dean was joking anxiously, wiping his fingers over his by now weary face. "Fuck this is the middle of nowhere." 

"The stars are very bright out here," sensing Dean's growing agitation, Castiel tried to put him at ease. "Even seen through the naked eye." 

"Yeah, that's the sort of romantic yet vaguely ominous thing an experienced killer, possibly disguised as an attractive local cop, would say. I know, I've played one." 

"Oh yes, in ‘Screech!’, that's the film with the college professor hunted by local jocks in the forest right?" Castiel executed a sharp turn down yet another dirt path. "Don't they end up united against the prejudiced locals and run off to the woods together as cannibalistic lovers?" 

"Murder spouses, you uh, you saw that?" Dean amended, his tone a little shy and tentative. "Not my most popular film to be honest, cult following is how its described. I think that means small but passionate fan base. Did you, did you like it?" 

"It frightened me, if I am being honest," Castiel bit his bottom lip. "They were so ... out of control in love." 

Dean looked at Castiel with a fixed gaze. "Huh, I'll take that as a compliment. You really got it. That's why I chose that script, it made me feel uncomfortable. A little too close to home." 

"You worry about chasing down college professors in the fog?" Castiel asked. "How ... mist-ifying." 

Dean's eyes widened exaggeratedly, he blew out a huff of breath. "You being funny Cas? You think you're a smartass?" 

Castiel just grinned and kept driving. They passed a bend in the road where the path diverged. 

"Hey, that fork in the road, where does that go?" Dean squinted into the even more sinister looking shadows that went down the mountain into a valley. 

"To Mr Mark Cain's house, my neighbour," Castiel said. "He's the local butcher. A decent man, keeps to himself, travels a lot, keeps bees." 

Dean shuddered. "He's probably a hitman hiding in a small town community." 

Castiel rolled his eyes. "You really do have a flare for the melodramatic, Dean."

The car turned the final bend and was parked under an elderflower tree, the white blooms permeating the air with intoxicating perfume. They sat in the darkness, Castiel gathering up the jacket and Dean retrieving his device. There seemed no rush to head into the vague shadow in the trees that was Castiel's house. 

"Here I am, in the darkened woods, with a strange alpha," Dean said in a whisper, half thrilled, half terrified. "What the hell am I doing?" 

"You need never be wary with me," Castiel looked at Dean who was so out of his element. "Claim or not, you are safe here." 

Dean looked at Castiel, frowning. 

"You might have all the money and power in the world, but in Angelfell what matters is how you treat others. We are accustomed to our habits and associations with each other, to the point that perhaps we seem a little ridiculous to newcomers. I don't know why Donna was so unhelpful though she is the most dedicated officer I've ever known. Or why Rowena refused to provide you with shelter. I can assure you, you are a guest in my house, such as it is. And I extend its comforts to you." 

Dean's eyes flickered around Castiel's face. "Alright Serve And Protect, show me your den of inequity." 

Castiel smiled, showing teeth and opened the cruiser door. He bade Dean watch out for the lotus pond and guided him through an unwieldy garden of self-seeded annuals and drippy ferns. The front step was damp and mossy, Dean almost slipping on the creaky wooden porch. There were long hanging strands of grey moss over the front facade, dangling off of intrusive branches. Even Dean was impressed by the size of the building, it sat large and sprawling, with high ceilings and a boxy shape. 

"Balthazar tells me this house dates back to the Salem days, the shape of the mountains around it makes getting a wi-fi signal difficult. The cable company says its too far off the grid to get a copper wire connection."

"You could try a crystal ball," Dean muttered, looking at the grand old fire place and the period detailing in the wood work. "I'm surprised you get electricity." 

"I do but its not always reliable, especially during the rain season when trees can come down along the road. So I have a generator and gas tanks for the stove and grill. I should really get solar panels but that's expensive." 

"You live here all by yourself?" 

"It used to be the whole family, my father, my brothers Michael and Nick and Gabriel too of course. But everyone's moved out for jobs and travel, well, Nick's in jail for domestic battery. So yes, just me." 

Dean winced but at the sight of the flicker of vulnerability in Castiel's eyes didn't ask any prying questions. Instead, he said conversationally: "Place like this, must be a lot of upkeep." 

"I do what I can and I save up for the rest. The roof leaks and the wiring needs to be redone eventually but the structure of the house is sound." 

Dean plodded around the expansive downstairs, looking at doorknobs and wood panelling with an appraising eye. "Damned pretty place, suits you." 

Castiel shrugged. "I like it but I was happy in my dormitory accommodation during college and while on placement I lived in an apartment over in Boston. That was fine too. I do think the view is good though."

Castiel led Dean through to the back of the house where a huge, comfortable looking den flowed on into a large dine in kitchen. Here the lights glowed warm and bright and Castiel went to open the back door so that the evening summer breeze could infiltrate the house. There was a sloshing sound like leaking plumbing and when Dean looked out the huge windows he could only see the outlines of trees and more far away trees. In the darkness of a slivered moon night, all Dean could make out was nature. It was much more comforting to turn back to the warm light where Castiel stood and watch him casually take off his uniform jacket and hang it on the back of a chair. 

"I can show you the bathroom and if you want something to eat there are meals in the freezer." 

Dean walked up to the fridge and looked at the stack of frozen microwave meals with a frown. "Got any fresh food?" 

Castiel shrugged. "There might be some sandwich fixings in the fridge." 

Castiel left Dean to rifle through the contents of his rather haphazardly stocked pantry and refrigerator, opting to go and wash up for the evening. He left Dean to his own devices and grabbed a quick, cool shower, applying topical suppressants liberally. He emptied out the spray can and with his towel around his hip, ran across the corridors, slip sliding over the wooden floors, to get a fresh bottle from his bedroom. It was far too warm for it, but Castiel opted for long cotton sleep pants and a loose t-shirt. Though usually when he was home alone he tended to walk around in boxer briefs since the house had no air conditioning. It was only when he went back to the den to find the television on and Dean chuckling as he clicked on the remote that Castiel realised he had left Netflix logged in when he last used it. 

"I like to have a cooking show playing when I make food," Dean arched his eyebrows. "But your Netflix is only recommending my own movies to me. I think you've watched my entire catalogue." 

Castiel blushed and cursed the wi-fi gods who chose tonight, of all nights, to not throw up the no signal screen. His mind flashed back guiltily to his standard evenings when in a post microwave dinner stupor, he routinely clicked into Dean's R rated films and took care of himself on the couch. Then it hit him, he had not expected Dean to be in the sanctity of his home, he had not had a chance to clean up. Everywhere his personal scent lingered. With his heart in his throat, Castiel tentatively glanced in the direction of Dean's crotch. Dean was standing behind the kitchen counter, cutting up vegetables on a chopping board. When he turned to stir the food in a sizzling pan, Castiel leaned over to have a proper look. He sighed when he saw Dean had found an apron and fastened it around his waist. Maybe Dean was wearing blockers, maybe the open door to the back porch dissipated his scent, Castiel hoped. Then the thought came unbidden, what if his alpha scent simply did not have any effect on Dean any more. What if in the months that had passed, Dean has found some other alpha or simply gotten over his initial attraction to Castiel. Maybe the elevator and the bathroom had been unsatisfactory experiences for Dean. Castiel was quietly working himself into a panic. He certainly had no idea whether the manner in which he knotted Dean's throat was in any way competent. What if he had done it wrong? What if Dean thought him an inept alpha. What if, and here was the worst scenario of all, Dean thought he was funny? 

"You gonna stand there and emote all over your face the whole night long or are you gonna eat?" Dean said, pushing forward two plates with piping hot food on it. 

Somehow, Dean had conjured up out of wilting vegetables and leftovers savoury and smokey tasting fried rice. Castiel put a spoonful in his mouth and groaned at the unexpectedly hot and salty dish. 

"And don't think this is some sort of omega domestic crap," Dean pulled out two bottles of beer left over from poker night. "I just like to cook okay. Not expecting you to fall on your knees and propose marriage over it." 

Castiel ate the delicious fluffy rice in silence, trying to keep his face in check, but it was so good and Dean looked so pleased when he pushed his plate forward with a mute plea for a second helping. 

"I could make some more," Dean tipped the crunchy bits out of the pan, sprinkling the best brown bits over the last few bites on Castiel's plate. 

Castiel shook his head. "I'm actually very full but its too delicious to pass up." 

"I like watching you eat," Dean clamped his mouth shut as soon as he had spoken the words, he tried to cover up the slip with a wink. "If you know what I mean." 

Castiel scraped the last few grains from his plate. "I have no idea Dean." 

"Really?" Dean put the dishes in the sink. "What part of the double entendre is unclear?" 

Castiel blinked and scrunched his nose and shrugged, getting a little closer to Dean as he took up position over the sink and started doing the dishes. 

"Maybe you'll get my drift if I get down low and present?" Dean was wearing a strange expression, half ridiculing and half hopeful. 

"You want to make a presentation about it?" Castiel dried off the last of the plates. 

Dean looked at Castiel balefully. 

"Far as I can see Cas, you live in the woods, but you weren't brought up wolves, what is wrong with you? You don't know what an omega presenting means?" 

"Does it involve a slide show?" 

Dean threw his hands up in the air. "Seriously?" 

Castiel breathed very slowly through his nose. So it has come to this, the explanation he had dreaded giving. 

"I'm 40 years old Dean and as far as my research online has shown me, I am not someone who has much of a sexual appetite. If I had to put a label on it, I am probably comfortable identifying as grey-asexual, demi-sexual or somewhere on the asexual spectrum." 

Dean stopped talking. "Oh, well, that's cool Cas." 

"Although I have to admit my consumption of pornography has significantly increased since you...since the claiming tattoo appeared." 

"Hey, we all gotta do what we gotta do," Dean scratched the back of his neck. "Um, you may have realised I have used your trench coat as an aid when I deploy the 'knottinator'."

Castiel made a face. 

"I'm sorry if it offends you," Dean said. "Forget I said anything." 

"No, it's just a terrible name," Castiel said. "I don't mind. You um... may suspect from my Netflix history... that I have also taken liberties in my private fantasies." 

"Yeah, totally okay by me, two grown men dealing with one of those fate bond things like mature adults. Not bothering each other with archaic expectations. We're practically progressive." 

Castiel smiled. "I do like the notion that my masturbatory habits are helping to progressing society." 

Dean swallowed a laugh and the last of his beer. "Well, then, care to point me in the direction of the guest room so I can nudge social progress along some more?" 

Castiel put away the empty beer bottles with heated cheeks. "Of course, this way Dean." 

The guest room was downstairs at the front of the house. It had a metal framed bed, some simple linen and a desk with a chair. There were polaroids on the mirror over the desk, snaps taken during dinner parties, get togethers and seasonal holidays. Dean looked at the tiny photographs of Castiel's friends over the years, spotting familiar faces he had encountered in town. 

"Who's the blond guy with the sports cars?" Dean asked. 

"That's Balthazar, he's a real estate agent, we've been friends for many years." 

"Yeah, you sure have," Dean looked at the photos of various ages of Castiel. "And that's your cop buddy, from the hotel." 

"Henriksen and I knew each other before either of us were in the force." 

"You gotta a whole lotta friends," Dean grinned. "You like it here in town? Not looking for a promotion to a bigger jurisdiction?" 

"Yes, no, I wouldn't dream of ever leaving," Castiel said thoughtfully. "All my life I've lived here, the years I went away for my education or employment were years in which I missed the community that I call home. Its almost like I wouldn't be me if I wasn't here in this place I love, serving the local community." 

"I can respect that," Dean said, walking close enough to Castiel to look him in the eyes. "Would you have liked for your tattoo to show the name of someone closer to home? Not a fly by night kinda guy like me? My home is sets and hotel rooms, must have been a shock seeing 'Dean Winchester' on your chest huh?" 

"I can only imagine it was the same sort of shock for you," Castiel said reasonably, Dean was standing close now and maybe he had also taken a step closer. The air felt warmer and smelled sweeter. 

"I freaked out completely. Got it the night before the convention when you came to see me. I had only just woken up that morning with it. 'Castiel' I didn't know anyone by that name and I certainly didn't expect it to belong to the irrisistable alpha I ran into in Central Park." 

Castiel watched Dean's lips move, getting a little lost in the arch of his cupid's bow, mesmerised by the fullness of his pink bottom lip.

"I had to sit down when I saw you and you told me your name. Sit down or fall down. You made me uh weak in the knees," Dean licked his bottom lip, Castiel stared intensely. "I know I was a jerk, I kept thinking about that meeting, playing it over and over in my head afterwards. I just wasn't coping with the idea that all this time I've been quite happy keeping my omega status private. I've dated other omegas and betas mostly. Never met an alpha that I wanted to be with, like they all smelled wrong almost. I just figured I was one of those omegas who wasn't attracted to alphas at all. And I accepted that. And of course, I hid it for work as well. I don't know if anything I'm saying makes sense to you, it's like, like when everything you've never known you wanted, needed, suddenly materialises in front of you, you just wanna walk away." 

Castiel gave Dean a long lingering look. "Maybe that's not such a foreign concept to me." 

Dean dipped his head and flicked his eyes up uncertainly at Castiel. 

"I ... should let you get some rest," Castiel said, gesturing to the bed ineffectually. "I'm just upstairs, bedroom directly above this one, if you need me for anything. Like if you can't find the bathroom ..."

"I know where the bathroom is," Dean said quickly. 

"Or want a drink of water." 

"I'll get it out of the tap." 

"Do you have a phone charger?"

"Got it."

"Good." 

Castiel gave Dean another long slow look, then said resolutely: "Goodnight Dean." 

Walking away from Dean was hard, not as hard as trying not to make any noise whatsoever in his bed so that the floorboards didn't creak and give away his rhythmic activity. Even harder was trying not to pause in between shuddering delights and holding his breath to listen for any suggestion of similar indulgences coming from downstairs. Around midnight, Castiel finally managed to fall into a fitful sleep, unsatisfied. 

The knock at his door woke him. His bedside alarm clock read one in the morning. Dean stood in the doorframe at a respectful distance as the door creaked open at Castiel's muffled "Yes?" There was distress on Dean's face, bags under his eyes, his pupils dark pits. 

"I can't, can't sleep Cas," Dean reached out a hand. "I need the trench coat." 

Castiel rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "It's downstairs. In the washing machine." 

"You washed it?" Dean's voice was full of despair. 

"What's wrong?" 

"I can't sleep without the scent," Dean said plaintively. "The guest bed doesn't smell right, doesn't smell like you. I need, Cas, I need ..." 

Castiel was out of bed, opening his arms and putting them around Dean before he could finish his sentence. 

"Is this helping?" 

Dean sunk his nose into Castiel's chest, breathing deep and loudly. He calmed almost instantly. 

"Can't sleep standing on my feet though," Dean said muffled. 

"Would you like to sleep with me, Dean?" Castiel offered. 

Dean froze. So Castiel waited. The bed beckoned with its sleep musk scent, the warm wrinkled sheets and quilts tangled into an inviting nest. Castiel would wait till all claim tattoos faded in the world. Till the most profound bonds disappeared. He waited for Dean to make up his mind.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean's eyes slid to the bed, the swollen pillows, the cotton creases. 

"If you're okay with me crashing here," Dean swallowed, the tired lines around his jaws relaxing. "I won't even take my clothes off." 

Castiel tried not to make comment on Dean's skimpy briefs. He was wearing nothing more than a slip of designer cotton, fresh night sweat and heavy rich scent. He gestured Dean towards the bed. Dean clambered in and chastely covered himself in one thin sheet. Dean lay on his back, hands tucked in between his knees, his eyes staring into the ceiling. 

"Thought I was the awkward one." Castiel said and Dean let out a huff of laughter as if it was a very funny line. 

Castiel got back into the bed, keeping his movements fluid and slow as if he wasn't starting to feel the weight of the moment. It was way too hot to roll up in the blankets, though he felt the urge to hide himself from the omega a little. In the many fantasies he had entertained with regard to Dean being in his bed, he had imagined himself suave and authoritative. Perhaps he had imagined Dean seductive and bold too. The unexpectedness of Dean's presence in his home had thrown him for a loop. 

"You are allowed to breathe, Dean," Castiel said after a moment, just after remembering the fact for himself. 

"Perfectly oxygenated," Dean answered back, a little gasp-y. 

"I can't tell, does the bed smell okay?" 

"Fine," Dean said quickly. "Good. Great." 

Castiel turned his head to see that Dean had now closed his eyes tightly and was talking to himself. 

"What are you doing?" 

"Praying to not get hard," Dean sighed. 

"Why on earth would you do that, Dean?" Castiel was genuinely surprised. 

"Don't wanna put you off, don't want you to think I wanna ..." Dean swallowed. "This is a bad idea. I think I should go sleep on the couch, or the police car, I've never slept in a police car before, what a great time to try it out." 

Castiel grunted, Dean's anxiety making his chest warm with the urge to comfort him. He laid there and tried to think of something to do that would make Dean feel better but also not give himself away too much. Somehow he willed his arms  and chest to move, despite the debilitating tension in the air. His bicep flung over Dean's chest and put Dean into a one armed hug. Dean went tense then floppy. 

"Desire is natural, nothing you feel would ever put me off," Castiel said into the pillow. 

He could hear Dean's breathing next to his ear, the soft little whispered "Good to know Cas." 

The wind stirred outside and the soft hum of rain on the roof began to sound. The air grew a little cooler over the back of his neck, with Dean beneath his arm, he felt the oppression of heat ease in the room. Slowly, Dean's legs sunk into the bed, his hands came up and held Castiel's arm like it was something worth clinging to. Castiel opened his mouth to talk more about desire and perhaps even move onto the topic of lust but the huffing snores from Dean made him smile and be silent. 

=&=&=&= 

Dean turned out to be an excellent sleeper and a late riser. Waking up with an armful of toasty omega was a whole new experience for Castiel. Dean liked to flop all over the place when he slept, he made interesting sounds and pulled fascinating faces. Castiel had woken a couple of times in the night to the sensorial delights of Dean's breathing, the stirring of his legs, the way Dean liked to grab hold of Castiel's hands in his dreams. Though Dean's scent was always mouthwatering for Castiel, once their body chemistry had mingled in the warmth of the bed, something strange happened. The smells almost disappeared, or transmuted rather, into a feeling. Castiel felt calm and at peace, like a ship returned to shore. It was not so much a sense of rightness as a sense of at-last-ness. What sleep he had was deeper and sweeter than ever. 

Dean waking on the other hand was a trial. Being considerate of Dean, Castiel had silenced his alarm at 6 am and lain still for Dean to aggressively cuddle for a good ten minutes. Dean grabbed hold of Castiel's waist like a non-swimmer for a pool inflatable, pressing Castiel's head into his chest and snuffing into his hair. Castiel realised this was a 'snuggle' and Dean, half asleep, seemed to conduct it with impunity. When Castiel tried to sit up, Dean drowned him in a full bodied hug and made cooing noises. His hands stroked down Castiel's back, his legs locked around Castiel's hips. Castiel slipped sideways inch by inch, carefully poking a foot out of the bed to try and detect the floor. 

"-tay!" Dean mumbled. "Stay." 

Castiel froze, his intrepid leg spasmed after a few seconds. 

"Don't go disappearing on me again babe," Dean palmed Castiel's cheek. "Gonna show you such a good time." 

Castiel felt Dean press against him, the warm hot soft hard bulge of his groin making Castiel's insides flutter. 

"It's me, Dean, Castiel," he tried to say in a calm but insistent voice. 

"It's always you," Dean slurred, pressed an open mouthed kiss/lick into his temple and then went limp. His erection still growing even as he drooled over Castiel's cheek. 

Castiel managed to roll out of the bed despite Dean's sleepy hands and less-sleepy groin. He stood at the side of the bed and peered down at the messy pile of amorous slumbering omega and ran his hands through his hair. Castiel was incredibly in over his head. With what semblance of self-control and rational thought he could muster, Castiel tried to carry out his morning routine. He went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, attempted something with his hair and switched on his coffee machine. Just a normal day, he reached for the cups in his kitchen cabinet, putting two mugs under the espresso machine. Absolutely not thinking about how one of those cups was for Dean. He showered in the guest bathroom, not knowing how to face the sight of Dean in his bed again without missing work entirely for the day. Resolutely, he placed two peanut butter and jelly pop tarts into the toaster, ignoring the second plate he had pulled out. He had seen those life insurance advertisements where soul bonded pairs bring each other breakfasts of gourmet omelette and avocado on sourdough, but a tasty sugary breakfast pop tart and a rich cup of coffee was what Castiel was capable of in this moment. When there was nothing left to do but get dressed in his uniform, Castiel grabbed the two coffee mugs, balanced the pop tarts on top and talked himself into checking on Dean in his bedroom. 

He peered through the door way, Dean was stirring. Castiel watched with his fingers burning on the mugs' sides as Dean rolled around, pressing his hips into the soft centre of the bed, mumbling what sounded a lot like Castiel's name and smother his pillow with hugs. With his eyes closed his nose twitching, Dean kept shuffling into the vacant space Castiel had left. He wriggled and snuffled and put out his arms and Castiel almost tipped the breakfast bearing coffee mugs when Dean fell over the edge of the bed. Dean sat up on the hardwood floor, massaging his butt as he climbed to his feet, his eyes finally open and darting around the room in shock. 

"Cas?" Dean called out, Castiel could see him taking in his surrounding and gulping as he remembered the night and day before. "Shit, I thought it was a bad dream." 

Castiel's heart did a weird little dive. "No, Dean, it wasn't." 

He passed the coffee and the breakfast/confectionary to Dean, who ate and drank with gusto. 

"What a freaking nightmare," Dean said as he crunched through the toast, Castiel felt something in his chest crumble with each angry bite. "Can't believe this happened!" 

"I'm sorry," Castiel looked down at his mug, the coffee smelled suddenly sour. "I can call you a cab." 

"What?" Dean looked up. "What for? I'll ride into town with you when you go to work. You gotta go to work Cas, much as I wanna stay here with you, you have to make it right!"

Castiel looked at Dean with growing confusion, wasn't Dean just lamenting having stayed over night at his place. Didn't he just call the whole experience a nightmare?

"I didn't think you would want to ride in with me," Castiel said tentatively. "You're very confounding." 

"Nah I'm just pissed off," Dean growled and even though Castiel was in the pits of despair the sound made him lift his head. "Some fucker hurt my car. She's a 1967 Impala ..." 

Castiel listened with growing happiness as Dean talked about engines and exhausts and body design, he began to sip on his coffee (creamy) and dip his pop tart in (sweet) and even managed to make enough impressed noises to keep Dean chatting. Dean wasn’t at all annoyed about staying with Castiel, he had been calling the vandalism on his car a nightmare. When Dean was done describing the seriousness of the atrocity committed on his car, he spared the bed a regretful parting glance and followed Castiel out to the kitchen to put away his empty mug. He lost Dean a couple of steps into the den, because Dean was drawn by the view. Without even putting on a dressing gown, Dean padded out onto the veranda overlooking the valley. Though the front of Castiel's house looked like it was situated on an overgrown plot, the back of it actually faced a completely wild landscape. There was a winding rock path, hidden amongst the trees and shrubs, that went down the side of the mountain. Apart from that, all the eye could see was the deep valley, far off river and on the mountain opposite Angel's Fall at full flow from the rain of the night before. 

Dean stared at the waterfall like it was a revelation. The sight took some people that way, Castiel knew. He had grown up with the view and hardly took notice of it, but seeing Dean's awed face in the clear morning light made the scene ever more beautiful. He stood and watched Dean watch the waterfall for a few minutes before his cellphone alarm told him it was time to head into work. With a little regret and some haste, Castiel went back into his bedroom and began to dress. His uniform shirt was fitted and had been carefully ironed. He pulled on his pants and buckled his belt. He carried handcuffs but his gun usually sat in the station in safe custody, there was hardly ever a need for it in his jurisdiction. His notebook and pen carefully tucked into the inside of his leather jacket, Castiel pulled on his cap and slid on his aviators and boots. He stopped in the living room and called out to Dean to check if he was ready. 

Dean came inside from the balcony. He was still only wearing his briefs, they looked somewhat familiar and with a jolt Castiel realised Dean was wearing the brand he modelled for. Dean looked like a sinful billboard advertisement, standing in Castiel's wood cabinet kitchen, his cheeks pink and his mouth half open. 

"We need to go, could you please get dressed?" Castiel said. 

Dean walked a couple of steps closer. Castiel was glad for his sunglasses, Dean was a little on the blinding side of beautiful. 

"Do you not have a change of clothes?" Castiel asked. "I could go get some from my wardrobe, you can borrow ... oof."

He found himself pressed to the kitchen bench, Dean rubbing the skin of his torso and stomach and thighs over the leather and metal of Castiel's uniform. 

"I gotta a thing for ... this," Dean waved at Castiel's hat and jacket and aviators. "May I Cas, please." 

Before Castiel could answer, Dean gulped and shivered and tried to peel himself off. "I mean, only if you wanna. Like last night I tried so hard to stay on my side of the bed ..." 

Castiel's mouth quirked, remembering the respectful distance of awake Dean in contrast to the clinging limpet of sleeping Dean. 

"I wanna be respectful, Cas, but if there's any chance you want what I want, please Cas just tell me." 

"What do you want Dean?" Castiel was proud of how not-shaky his voice came out. 

"I wanna ruin those pants and I wanna present and I wanna feel the beak of that fucking cap dig into my ass as you ..." Dean went red in the face and wide in the eyes. "... as you devour me." 

Castiel squinted. He had a feeling there would be no PowerPoints involved. 

"There's never traffic and frankly Donna can pick up her own donuts this morning," Castiel said by way of consent. 

The relief and awe flooding Dean's face more than made up for however late he was going to be for work and however much teasing his comrades had in store for him. 

"I like the jacket," Dean ran his hands over the black leather, tracing the state emblem and the white embossed letters spelling out C. NOVAK on his chest, smiling. "I got that too."

Castiel peered down at the glowing blue writing of Castiel Novak on Dean's skin, carefully touching the letters with his forefinger. 

"I like the aviators even if they hide your eyes," Dean said, rubbing his thumb along Castiel's jaw and grazing his bottom lip. "Makes you look mysterious, a little mean, like you might be rough with me." 

Castiel swallowed down the saliva suddenly filling his mouth. "Would you like me to be?" 

"Yeah," Dean nodded, still pressing his thumb into Castiel's lips. "Yeah show me how tough you are officer." 

Castiel had heard of something called role play, though he could not quite remember if it referred to theatre or comedy. He was also uncertain if it was acting when this was his real uniform and he was only being himself. He supposed the acting part was the sex bit. Castiel was not an actor, Dean could act but Castiel was neither a thespian or accustomed to sex. What Castiel could do though was use props. 

"Would you like me to restrain you?" 

The moan and sudden shudder that ran through Dean's body was answer enough. Castiel ran his hands over Dean's wrists and spun him around to face the kitchen counter, Dean made a gutteral noise when the handcuffs clicked into place. 

"Don't worry they are clean and sanitised, haven't had to use them in months," Castiel reassured Dean. 

"Not complaining, Cas," Dean said into the granite counter top. 

"Not complaining, sir," Castiel corrected and Dean's hips surged. 

Even from behind, Castiel could see the huge bulge tenting the soft suede feel cotton. The pressure on the fabric stretching over the crotch made the material at the back pull and thin out to almost nothing. The fabric was light grey and as the material slid and cut into the crease of Dean's ass a darkened patch began to develop. 

"Please spread your legs," Castiel helped Dean part his already bowed legs, he was starting to be a little unsteady on them. Gently he spread Dean's feet further apart with a nudge from tip of his boots. 

Marshmellowy vanilla musk filled the room, the designer underwear reached saturation point and Dean made a pitiful sound as dampness oozed down his inner thighs. Castiel dropped to his knees, the zipper of his jacket biting into Dean's calves as he grabbed hold of the ankles and pulled them even wider. The scent intensified and Castiel laved from knee to inner thigh to stiff balls inside damp cotton crotch. Dean tasted of sweetness and buttery syrup, over silky skin and rough hair. Castiel was thorough, licking in long hard swipes to scoop up every drop Dean could produce. He cleaned Dean's thighs and sucked on the cotton. 

"You're a fucking tease Cas," Dean whined. "At least take your dick out. Come on." 

"You take it out," Castiel said, pulled Dean up and rearranging him till he was on his knees in front of him, the kitchen counter boxing him in. "I remember how much you like sucking on it." 

Dean's cheeks reddened with infuriation and longing. "Fuck you Cas." 

"You wish," Castiel said, his hands clasping Dean behind his head, guiding him forward gently despite their heated exchange. "Here, use your teeth."

Dean's swearing was muffled as he grazed his teeth along Castiel's inseam until he could grip the zipper with his incisors. With a few tugs, the fly came open and Castiel sighed with relief as the pressure of his tight fitting pants was released. 

"Well done," Castiel praised and pulled his penis out magnatiously, Dean shuffled forward eagerly and nudged away enough fabric to expose Castiel to the root. 

Dean opened his mouth and tried to impale himself on it, but Castiel caught him by the throat. He gave Dean's neck a little squeeze that made his eyes roll up into his head then slid his hands over Dean's shoulders, thumbs rubbing over his collarbones. 

"I really gotta get to work Dean," Castiel said gravely. "Can't knot you in the throat." 

"I can pull off fast Cas, managed to in the elevator, it was only ten minutes," Dean was pleading now. "Sure I couldn't talk much for a while after that, but it felt so good, I remembered you for days every time I swallowed." 

"Dean, what would people say if they realised I'd ruined your throat with my knot," Castiel blushed hotly. "The town is a little gossipy." 

"They'd say I'm a fucking lucky guy," Dean pushed forward again. "Please Cas." 

"Alright, just hold up Dean, let me think this through," Castiel took a step back. "Dean, stop writhing, it's very distracting." 

Dean sat back and pouted. 

"You could rub against it if you want," Castiel said uncertainly. "With your uh your opening." 

"Upper opening? Lower opening?" Dean smirked. 

Castiel let out an exasperated laugh. "Whichever you want." 

"Awesome," Dean rose to his feet, a little unsteady, the handcuffs throwing him off balance. 

Castiel landed in the couch when Dean pretty much jumped on him, his arms still held behind his back, using his hips and legs to nudge Castiel into position. The position that Dean wanted turned out to be Castiel flopped half on and half off the couch, wedged between the leather arm and Dean's feverish skin. Dean pressed his naked body along Castiel's, rubbing his scent into Castiel's jacket and shirt and pants. Castiel made an indignant noise when he felt a hot gush of liquid soak through the front of his pants, Dean ground his wet briefs over Castiel's crotch, trapping his erection. 

"I like your buttoned up collar and your tight shirt, officer Novak," Dean ran his eyes like a covetous touch over Castiel's black shirt and  pants, the ironed seams were totally destroyed by the rhythmic movement of Dean's hips. "I like your belt and your boots. I like your hat too." 

Dean leant down and bit Castiel's left nipple through his shirt, right where the tattoo of Dean's name sat. He grazed his teeth down the front of Castiel's shirt, biting hard on pieces of muscled abdomen. Dean clamped his legs hard over Castiel's slim hips and pulsed his damp briefs over Castiel's shaft, circling his hips in wicked little circles. 

"Mostly, I like you though," Dean said, kissing Castiel hard on the mouth. 

The kiss was ferocious and messy, had teeth and tongue, it knocked Castiel's hat off and his aviators slid off and all Castiel could see was bright green eyes, the pupils dark with pleasure and since Castiel's pants were already covered in a copious amount of slick, it seemed hardly any worse to spray his shirt with semen. 

He didn't have a spare jacket though, so after a hasty cleanup with a tea-towel from the kitchen, Castiel sat in his cruiser with a dazed expression on his face, about a can full of suppressants had been dumped over his bomber jacket and over his crotch and under his arms. He had showered and so had Dean (separately, one upstairs and one downstairs) and changed into fresh uniform shirt and pants. He was going to arrive an hour later than usual. He had refused to drive Dean into town, because he knew all too well the likelihood of the cruiser being pulled over in a country ditch somewhere and he was going to go missing for a whole day if Dean got within the private confined space of the car with him. Dean had smelt like heaven on wildfire and Castiel would have knotted him there and then, in his 'lower opening' even, if he hadn't also felt the overwhelming urge to kiss and cuddle and fawn over Dean. The conflicting and perhaps symbiotic urges to bring Dean to wreck and ruin and comfort and ease gave Castiel enough respite from desire to stand and release Dean from the handcuffs. Dean had been understanding, had been compliant and doting almost as he pulled Castiel from the couch and urged him to get cleaned up. 

"I might come into town later, see how you're going with the case," Dean said almost shyly at the door. "That okay Cas?" 

Then he had kissed Castiel on the lips, a sweet close mouthed kiss, the sort of kiss a bonded omega might give to his alpha to say 'I love you' and 'I belong with you' as they parted for work. 

The kiss was the most devastating thing that happened that morning. Castiel broke a few traffic rules himself, as he made his way to work, thinking about that kiss.


	9. Chapter 9

There were several text messages that awaited Castiel by the time he pulled into the carpark. He checked them in order. One had been sent overnight from the online company whose website had been utterly bewildering. Castiel had made his selection based on colour rather than features or utility, in hindsight, blossom green was not a particularly seductive shade but he had made the assumption it would be too dim to see when he used it, therefore glowing in the dark was probably a practical consideration. It had not occurred to Castiel that the point of an artificial omega orifice would be to simulate rather than innovate. The second text informed him that his local post office had received the order and would be making the delivery in the afternoon. Castiel had paid for expedited service, both because he was prompted by Dr Hannah Milton’s medical concerns for his wellbeing as well as a hope that he would avoid having to sign for the parcel in front of Daphne in the post office. Daphne was a nice woman but she had purchased the charity calendar last year and thought it was June, the page was still stuck on December last time he went in to buy stamps for the police station. 

Samandriel was waiting for him at the reception counter, though he did not have one of his usual cheerful morning smiles and one of his eyes was definitely twitching when Castiel signed in for the day. Samandriel was still craning his neck at the front door long after Castiel had walked over to his locker. He kept checking his tie in his reflection from the glass door, adjusting his hat presumably for a most flattering angle.

“He’s not here,” Castiel said so that they could at least start to get some work done, feeling a little possessive, Castiel lied through his teeth. “Stop fussing with your uniform, Dean’s not into that. And you are certainly too young for him.” 

Samandriel chewed the end of his pencil. “I’m twenty-five, which is practically half way to middle aged.” 

“Quarter aged, then,” Castiel smirked. “Dean’s IMDB profile says he is thirty-nine, a popular age for actors.” 

“What did you guys do last night?” Samandriel asked, his cheeks going pink when he realised what he had said. “I mean, just like, you had Dean Winchester in your house. The most beautiful man in the world. What did you do to keep him entertained?” 

“I let him make dinner and showed him the guest room,” Castiel stated. “Not that it is anyone else’s business.” 

“That’s it? You didn’t stream his movies on Netflix and get him to give you all the blow by blow action? Behind the scenes?”

“No,” Castiel said flatly, his frowned. “Oh and we did the dishes together.” 

“For a really hot guy you are not smooth,” Samandriel groaned. 

Castiel blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

Samandriel suddenly stopped talking, his face going from peach sunrise to watermelon crush. 

“Just, maybe some people in town might think you’re a cool guy,” Samandriel said, suddenly shy. “Like maybe they’d heard about Winchester coming to town and they might be feeling a little protective. Not me, obviously, because you’re my superior officer and fraternising is against the rules. I mean, I studied all the loopholes but there’s no way out of those, believe me I looked.” 

Castiel just stared at Samandriel and let him keep talking. Samandriel’s pale blue eyes seemed glued to his deeper marine ones, he was falling apart under Castiel’s steady gaze. 

“It’s not like you know I’ve had a crush on you since back in the quarter chicken roast dinner days, when I worked at the restaurant to supplement college fees, when you and Donna swung by after your shifts. You’d know if I did, cause you would have gotten extra helpings of sides. And that time my car broke down during the storm and you picked me up off the side of the highway in your patrol car and put the heater on and turned your rearview mirror backwards so I could get changed in the back seat and you let me borrow your gym clothes. Like that definitely didn’t make me realise I was also into guys. Alpha guys for that matter.” 

Castiel was aghast, he was sure that Samandriel used to give Donna and him extra helpings of the house gravy. A question began to formulate in his mind. He looked at Samandriel with inquiring eyes. 

“I totally didn’t make up my mind there and then to go into criminal justice and apply for the cadetship,” Samandriel trailed off. “So I can help people in need for a living just like you do.” 

“Please let me clarify,” Castiel blinked at Samandriel. “I thought the house gravy was bottomless.” 

Samandriel bit his lips and studied his hands. “They were meant to be an extra 50 cents a serve.” 

“Oh,” Castiel nodded. “I see.” 

“I’m glad that you’re showing Dean the best of Angelfell,” Samandriel said. “Must be exciting for him getting to live the local lifestyle.” 

Samandriel ducked his head down lower and clicked on the answering machine, getting on with the station routines of the morning. Castiel tried to come up with something to say, but wasn’t sure what he could say to the young alpha. Except a low “Thanks for the extra gravy and uh for following the rules.” 

Samandriel looked at Castiel with a soft smile. “No hard feelings,” he said. “You and Donna always tipped well and I still want to be an officer like you, and I get it, house gravy probably doesn’t measure up to Dean Winchester, X-Men.” 

“He’s in X-Men too?” Castiel was surprised. 

“Yeah, he’s in all the franchises,” Samandriel was relieved by the change of topic. “What have you been watching?”

Castiel shrugged, thinking guiltily of his R-rated Netflix watch list. 

They went through the overnight messages to the station together in companionable silence. Donna had been on-call the night before since it had been a Thursday night. Which meant the pizza restaurant and local diner were both operating. Over the weekend they would channel their emergency calls over to Henriksen’s jurisdiction, his being the nearest metropolitan police station, and both Donna and Castiel would be on call over the relatively less sluggish weekend shifts. Having done the fairly intensive training course, Castiel was due for taking some leave. Once the new assignment was given, he would have little time to himself. However, Castiel wondered if putting in a leave request now, coinciding with Dean’s presence in town would only draw more attention. 

Even though figuring out who cut the Impala ignition wire meant Dean would be on his way, Castiel faithfully began an investigation into the incident. The car had been parked in front of the bakery so he needed to check the security cameras of nearby shops and talk to the business owners and see if there were any witnesses. The car also needed to be repaired and there was only one mechanic in town who could fix a classic car like the one Dean had. Castiel took out his phone to call Dean so that a tow truck could be arranged. He stared at his cell for a few minutes. He didn’t have Dean’s cell phone number. He could ask Samandriel to look it up on the system, given that Dean had filed a report, but then sudden doubt assailed Castiel’s confidence. What if Dean would find that an intrusion? One part of Castiel’s brain told him that if Dean had rubbed himself to climax on Castiel’s uniform pants then he was probably amenable to sharing his cell number. Yet another part of Castiel’s psyche insisted that that was precisely the sort of thing to make Dean not want to share his phone number. What if Dean was just in town for a couple of days and like Samandriel had said wanted to experience the local lifestyle. The locals. A local. 

Castiel reigned in his runaway thoughts. He was not someone who typically lost confidence, though having Dean around, showing up out of the blue, arguing with him, rutting against him, was certainly throwing him for a loop. What he needed to do was his job and whether Dean was still at his house by the time he finished work was up to Dean. There must be ways he could hire another car, or get picked up, or book a hotel. Castiel breathed out and called his own landline. Dean picked up on the second ring. 

“Castiel Novak’s residence, no more gifts, please,” Dean said. 

“Uh, its me,” Castiel mumbled. “Sorry, what gifts?” 

“There’s been deliveries all morning,” Dean replied. “A flower truck came by, young man called Kevin, runs the florist he said?” 

“Oh, yes, he does that sometimes,” Castiel said. “He goes to the farms to get cut flowers for his shop and sometimes he sees a plant he thinks I might like and drops it off at my house. I figured out a robbery that occurred at his business a couple years back.” 

“Ah ha, nice kid, well, man,” Dean said blithely. “Calls you officer Novak, says you’re the bravest man he’s ever met but also the worst gardener in the world. He’s brought a cactus today, white haired, because you ‘don’t like being pricked’ and deserves ‘something as interesting and aesthetically pleasing to look at as you’.” 

Castiel listened and had nothing to add. 

“But then, I was visited by Mr Mark Cain, assassin incognito, with a jar of freshly harvested honey. Then he just stared at me and told me he has been keeping a very close eye on your welfare. Then talked about friends in New York and L.A. who would be able to keep a very close eye on me if I in anyway offend your hospitality.” 

“I’m sure his friend are all apiarists,” Castiel said carefully. “I’ve been helping him with some tree trimming over the winter. He just likes the look of my wrists. Asked to sketch them. He is a real renaissance man.” 

“Uh-huh,” Dean said in a calm voice. “At least he wasn’t asking you to dig holes or cement a new pergola. So then there was Daphne.” 

“Oh dear,” was all Castiel could say to that revelation. 

“She’s still here, in fact, having a sip of iced tea,” Dean continued. “She was delivering a parcel. Said that she recognised the discrete shipping box and was just here to check that you are okay. She was concerned because you’re ‘a mature alpha all by yourself and clearly your omega is not meeting your needs’. She couldn’t quite say who your omega might be, except that she’s sure she or he is very lucky to be seeing you.” 

“I uh may have avoided any personal chats with Daphne over the years,” Castiel stumbled over the words a little. “She didn’t mention a calendar by any chance ...” 

“Oh yes, she showed me where I could order one,” Dean’s voice was just a little higher than before. “Apparently, with every pre-order you can go into the draw to win a date with one of the stars of the Angelfell Community Services Charity Calendar.” 

“That’s still weeks away and my date’s just a burger at the diner and a walk around town.” 

“Mm-hm,” Dean went on in an increasingly agitated voice. “So Daphne has been talking about your buddies on the calendar. Dr Hannah Milton who is the local physician is apparently Miss January and she does look very good with her stethoscope. I hear Mr Inias Paradiso, the ambulance officer, is Mr February and Daphne definitely thinks you and him rub shoulders a lot over sun-stroked tourists and errant swimmers. March, Mr Benny Lafitte, kindergarten teacher and volunteer firefighter, been attending your poker nights for years even though he is definitely not a police officer. Speaking of policemen, April, Sheriff Henriksen, not a local currently but grew up here, great friend of yours, maybe is putting off a federal promotion to stay near town. Do you want me to go on, she’s only up to August.” 

Castiel cleared his throat. “I am quite familiar with the contents of the calendar. Dean, why are you talking so fast?” 

“Because Cas, they are all omegas with massive crushes on you,” Dean hissed into the phone. “Because you act like some oblivious bachelor when the whole town is in love with you. There’s probably been a betting pool as to which one of them you’ll knot and settle down with and I’m the outsider here and everywhere I look people see me as some sort of out of town interloper, some Hollywood alien come to kidnap you from town!” 

“I’m sure that’s not the case,” Castiel began to say. “Actually, the reason I called is that I do believe there is local mechanic who can help with your car.” 

“Let me guess, is it some brawny dreamboat who has just proposed marriage to you last week?” 

“It’s Jody Mills, Donna’s wife ....” 

Dean breathed harshly down the phone line. There was some scrambling and then Dean said “Alright, gimme her number.” 

Castiel provided the information and waited through the sounds of Dean keying the number into his cell. 

“I’m not sure why you are upset,” Castiel said quietly. 

“I’m not upset,” Dean’s voice softened. “I just, I have your name over my heart Cas, and you’re so universally loved it makes me feel as if I’m not good enough...”

Castiel couldn’t help it, he huffed out an incredulous laugh, then it grew into a string of chuckles. 

“Dean, you’re worried too many people love me?” Castiel reiterated. 

“I appreciate the irony, I do,” Dean said. “But you know its not the same. My fans see an image of me, or maybe some of them they are invested in the causes I believe in, but I’m a dream, a reflection of wishes. But these people, they’re real people, they’re people who know you on an everyday basis. How am I gonna compete with that? You have a home here and all I got are hotels I can’t tell apart anymore.” 

Castiel thought about what Dean was saying. “I’ve been with these people, friends really, for forty years. And perhaps there were many opportunities to go beyond friendship. The fact is I never felt the urge to do so. It’s your name that showed up on my skin.” 

Dean went silent and his voice when he spoke again was slower and happier. “Alright, I’m coming into town then, if baby’s going to the mechanic I’ll need to meet with this Jody Mills before I trust her to work on it.” 

“Dean, she is very good ...”

“Not gonna be able to talk me out of it, I’m coming back to town with Daphne, on the mail truck.” 

“Of course,” Castiel sighed.

“Yeah, she’s gonna tell me about the rest of the year and then she’s gonna show me the hardcopy of December in the post office,” Dean definitely oozed wicked delight now. “I hear the theme was ‘snow angel’.” 

Castiel groaned and hung up the phone, only realising as he terminated the call that he still hadn’t asked Dean for his phone number.


	10. Chapter 10

"Whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing," Jody's voice came from the underside of the Impala. "Sliced through the wiring with surgical precision, but its an easy fix and it won't take long to repair at all."

To Castiel's surprise, Dean didn't seem all that excited by the promise of a quick fix.

"Fact is, if you had come to me yesterday, you'd be on your way out of town by now," Jody said. "But of course its Friday now and I won't get the parts I need till after the weekend."

Dean smiled at her. "There's no rush, I want you to do it right."

"It's one wire," Jody said brusquely. "Deep as your pockets might be, I'm not going to take a week to fix that. You got any theories on who did it Novak?"

Castiel shook his head. "I can't comment on a current investigation."

Donna choose that moment to put her head into the garage. "Jody, what did I say five minutes ago?"

"Lunch time?" Jody wheeled out from under the car and scrambled to wash up at the sink.

"Yes, lunch time, the food's getting cold and I gotta get back to the station for the shift change, come on."

Jody made a face at Dean. “Gotta go, Donna gets testy about lunch if she makes something from scratch and I don’t eat it while its fresh. I mostly grab salads left to my own devices but she’s cooked up a burger and caramelised the onions so you know how it is.”

Dean nodded understandingly, though as soon as Jody was out of the garage, he turned to Castiel and shrugged. “Wouldn’t know anything about the mated life. Is there much subservience to the wishes of your spouse?”

Castiel tilted his head and thought about the question. “I would make you subserve to me from time to time. Perhaps once a week. If you showed enough enthusiasm.”

Perhaps it was the hot midday sun but Dean turned his reddened face and sought the shade of the trees in the Mills-Hanscum yard. The couple lived on a medium block of land, much smaller than Castiel’s, but was crammed full of vegetable gardens, potting sheds, swing sets and a noisome henhouse. Jody worked from the large custom garage, there were old cars taking up random spots in amidst the laden fruit trees and roaming barn cats. Without asking for permission, Dean picked a green apple from an overhanging branch and took a hungry bite out of the fruit. He handed it to Castiel who ducked behind the bushes to devour it with him. After sharing the stolen fruit, they disposed of the evidence by way of the chorusing hens.

“If one day I had a mate, I would do everything in my power to understand their desires and fulfil them,” Castiel said, examining his sticky hand stained with juice. “And that is the promise I would make in service to our bond.”

Dean looked a little sun-dazed, his lashes closing over his irises, the green chaos of the garden soaking deep into his eyes.

“Imagine having this,” Dean said a little dreamily. “Local job, devoted wife, cooked lunches. Living in a town like this, having a house full of clutter, stuff you’ve accumulated rather than curated. The extraordinary detritus of being ordinary.”

“You think this is ordinary?” Castiel asked, arching an eyebrow. “And that I would be your wife?”

“Oh, I get to be the wife,” Dean said in a far off voice. “I’m the better cook and I look hot in aprons.”

Castiel laughed, checking his cell phone when it buzzed. It was Samandriel asking when he would be getting back to the station. He was waiting eagerly at the front desk, shooting up to his feet to shake Dean’s hand when they arrived.

“We’ve received the CCTV footage you requested from the public cameras,” Samandriel played them the short clips on his computer. “Weird huh?”

“Is that Donna?” Dean asked incredulous as her uniformed torso moved into frame and blocked out the crucial view.

“Yes, she filed a report around that time, there’s notes on the system that she was attending an incident where some wild geese were crossing the road.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “That happen much round here, Cas?”

“Mostly in the fall,” Castiel said thoughtfully. “It is a little early. Wait, go back, I can see someone crossing the road into the doctor’s office. Huh, figures.”

Dean followed Castiel out of the police station as the alpha swept out the door with a gleam in his eyes. They crossed the road and cut through the park and Castiel gaze grew steely as he pushed open the door of the real estate agency.

“Bal!” Castiel barked.

The pretty receptionist shot to his feet. “Officer Novak, he’s very busy booking in open houses at the moment.”

“Bal! You come out here or I announce at the next town meeting how the fountain in the square turned pink that Valentines Day in 2002.”

The man who raced out of the back office wore a nice black suit, an elaborate silk tie and a confident smile which he bestowed on Dean.

“Hello Mr Winchester, how nice to see you in town,” he turned to Castiel with a dramatic change to his face and demeanour. “You swore to secrecy, Cassie, and I told you I was led astray by your brother. We thought making out after dark in it would be romantic and who knew red edible astroglide would stain the marble like that?”

“Balthazar, so called friend,” Castiel introduced him to Dean. “Excelled in every subject at school. Hedonist terror of the college campus. Now he sells houses to starry eyed visitors and then rents them out to unsuspecting tourists when the home owners get weary of the small town life and move back to the cities. Then he convinces them to sell said houses again, to the next lot of people looking for a lifestyle change. So on and so forth. Profiteering along the way.”

“Paying taxes, supporting the economy,” Balthazar said blithely. “And I perform community services, such as run all the social media and news forums of the town and I organise the annual charity calendar. You may have heard about that.”

Dean flicked his eyes between the bickering friends. “I have met Daphne.”

Balthazar nodded. “A most loyal supporter of the calendar project, she has some really great ideas every year, in fact Cassie, I need to talk to you about the photo shoot next week.”

“I am on duty, so its Officer Novak,” Castiel said cooly.

“Right, I heard you demanding my appearance,” Balthazar smiled graciously. “What can I do for you, officer?”

“The only thing I wish to talk about right now Bal, Mr Dante, is what you saw yesterday on your way to the doctor’s office.”

“The doctor’s office? I don’t know, I didn’t go to the doctor’s office yesterday.”

“We have you on video,” Castiel said slowly.

“Oh, you mean Hannah’s work, yeah I forget she’s a doctor now. Huh. Uh. I was uh going there to um ... get viagra?” Bal grimaced. “Highly personal, probably confidential, could talk about it with my friend of many years Cassie, say over poker? But certainly not something I would like to discuss with an officer of the law.”

“I know for a fact you don’t use viagra,” Castiel commented.

Dean bristled.

“Uh, he only knows that because I tell my poker buddies Grindr stories and even though Cassie is very much bored by tales of my sexual exploits, I guess some of it did sink in,” Balthazar explained. “Um, alright, I went to see Hannah to talk about you behind your back.”

Castiel looked surprised, his pen hovered over his notebook uncertainly.

“She wouldn’t breach confidentiality but I have seen you going there for regular appointments, I wanted to know how you were travelling with the uh ... the situation,” Balthazar tore his eyes away from Castiel’s chest, seeingly remembering Dean’s presence. “Anyway she wouldn’t tell me anything so I left.”

“Okay, that sounds almost truthful,” Castiel moved on quickly. “So when you came out of the doctors did you see Officer Hanscum herding the deer across the road?”

Balthazar nodded enthusiastically. “It was huge, couldn’t miss it.”

Castiel closed his notebook with finality. “Thank you kindly for your cooperation. I’ll see you tonight.”

He gave Balthazar a curt nod and turned to leave. Dean kept his face blank and followed Castiel out.

“So he’s lying and so is Donna and/or Samandriel,” Dean whispered to Castiel as they walked down the street.

Castiel pursed his lips, his brows furrowed. “I’m afraid the town may be playing a game of silly billy with us.”

They walked in and out of the shops and stopped passersby from time to time. Daphne in the post office enthusiastically showed them some preliminary concept sketches for last year’s calendar when they stopped by to ask her for a witness statement. In between trying to cajole Castiel into agreeing to her new artistic vision for the upcoming photo shoot and gushing about how cute it would be if Dean made a celebrity cameo, she gave a word for word truthful account of having seen nothing but ordinary touristic activities in town yesterday. Certainly she did not see anyone go near a black classic car. Though she did recall seeing Donna do an excellent job of chasing the loose piglets off the main road. Kevin in the florist told an exuberant tale of peace and order and entertaining Balthazar for the afternoon while the real estate agent ordered flowers for the Saturday’s open houses. Eileen in the bakery signed that her security camera was sadly broken and she had herself been in the post office going over the calendar ideas with Daphne at the time of the crime taking place. Benny in the primary school across the road from the car park said that he had been in the playground supervising a game of skip rope. His entire class promised that nobody had touched the shiny car and that the butterflies Officer Hanscum caught were very pretty. Perhaps the wires melted in the heat, said one local. Or a jolt of the road snapped it, suggested another. Castiel was simmering with anger when they paused for a break in the local milk bar.

“They are closing ranks on us,” Castiel said, draining the pink lemonade and vanilla spider down to the half way mark in one hard suck.

Dean stared at the condensation on the side of Castiel’s glass, eyes wide at his lung capacity.

“It was like this when Seraphim Bank tried to decline the mortgage application I put in to buy out my father from the loan, so that he could go travel overseas. Turned out this developer Dick Roman wanted the land our family home is on. They all closed their accounts and refused to do business. Gabriel and I managed to refinance the whole thing via a metropolitan lender. The bank actually closed its local branch not long after. Henriksen researched Roman Remodelling and turned out he’d done some shady stuff and revenue audited him.”

Dean gave out a low whistle. “You’ve definitely got friends looking out for you.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t excuse sabotaging your car, but I suppose they were worried about my test results. Not that Hannah would ever share confidential information but word still gets around.”

Dean was still taking small indulgent sips on his blueberry thick shake but he stopped when he processed what Castiel said. “What results?”

That got a startled look from Castiel who had let that slip by accident. “Nothing Dean, don’t worry.”

“Wait, is this about the claim tattoo?” Dean asked with concern. “I thought it was a myth that the alpha would waste away if they don’t claim.”

“Of course,” Castiel nodded firmly. “We’re living in modern times, with medication and an understanding of physical and psychological health, nutrition, indoor heating etcetera. Claim tattoos are so rare nowadays people fulfil them as if following divine commands. When really, it’s just physiology and cultural expectation.”

He noticed Dean touching his own chest protectively, his fingers curling over the site of the tattoo. “Feels pretty magical to me,” Dean said. “How can skin know the name of the person you’ll love?”

“Psychic epidermis?” Castiel hazarded a guess.

Dean choked out a laugh but his eyes were solemn. “You know we got something special here, don’t you, Cas?”

Castiel drained his lemonade, his paper straw making hollow sounds in the vanilla ice cream foam. His cheeks pink in the afternoon light.

“Maybe it is divine intervention, us running into each other all the time,” Dean said.

“I think its your bodyguard Charlie orchestrating things, perhaps in cahoots with your brother Sam,” Castiel suggested.

“Hmm, if it is them Jessica would be in on it too,” Dean said. “That’s Sam’s fiancee. She’s pregnant you know, he’s thinking of getting hitched in Vegas, said she’s talked about how fun that would be.”

“Oh, congratulations,” Castiel smiled indulgently at Dean. “How lovely for them. And for you, when you are an uncle.”

“Cannot imagine how good it will be,” Dean beamed. “Sam and I didn’t grow up with much. We were public foster system kids. Sam was real smart in school, got offered a law spot by Stanford, but even with a scholarship we couldn’t afford the move. So Sam did a physio course and I started modelling, fell into acting, and now he’s my personal trainer and at least we get to stick together even with my all over the place job. With the baby coming though, I wonder if Sam will want to settle down in one place, nice city or pretty town like this. I don’t want my nephew or niece to have to move around as much as we did when we were young.”

“What happened to your parents, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Building fire,” Dean said quietly. “I used to wish I could’ve helped. Been older, stronger, or something. Guess that’s why I work so hard to get those hero parts. Wanna be my own saviour.”

They both sipped their drinks in deep thought.

“My brother is in jail,” Castiel said. “He says it is because our father was often absent. He’s a writer, lives in his own head alot, in his own universes where we’re less real than his characters to him sometimes. I think Nick’s in jail because he feels entitled to his anger and tried to beat up his girlfriend. But Gabriel is in every way a good brother and great friend and gifted dramatist. So Nick can wail on me for sending him there all he likes, I’m glad he’s learning his lesson. And we don’t talk about Michael, the eldest, he’s the real black sheep, works in corporate takeovers on Wall Street.”

Dean snorted through his nose, choking on creamy milkshake.

“Well, now that we’ve traded emotional back stories that give more depth to our character, what are we gonna do, Cas? My car’s not gonna be fixed till Monday and its Friday evening in lovely Angelfell.”

“I get off tonight,” Castiel said eagerly.

Dean choked some more but Castiel just squinted at him. “I always get off on Friday nights, it’s traditional.”

Dean was biting his fist between little sobs of laughter.

“Let me tidy up my desk and write up my notes, then we can go home, grab some pizzas on the way back,” Castiel grinned at Dean.

Dean nodded, ‘home’ sounded amazing.

“All right, I’ll just stop by the post office, might send a post card to Sam and a ‘do not meddle’ reminder to Charlie,” Dean mentioned.

They parted ways at the front of the diner, Castiel smiling and Dean rubbing his over satiated stomach. When Castiel drove them back in the cruiser, Dean was looking at something in his lap and giggling. He finally showed Castiel the sheafs of paper. There was a sketch in pencil of Hannah sexily posing with stethoscopes and another of Castiel, topless and making a snow angel.

“The cotton wool, which they used in lieu of snow, got everywhere,” Castiel informed Dean. “I will certainly be vetoing any more ridiculous concepts for the calendar.”

“I think the sketch captures you real well Cas, look at that little gleeful smile on your face,” Dean said. “You know for someone who seems so oblivious, you sure don’t miss a thing, Cas.”

“I’m inscrutable but not unintelligent,” Castiel smirked.

“Ineffable, indescribable, incredible,” Dean said, a little sing-song, a little awed. “Irreplaceable little shit.”

Castiel winked at Dean in the rearview mirror and turned the car towards the pizza shop.

=*=*=*=

‘Daphne’s Sketches’ drawn by the wonderful Hectatess


	11. Chapter 11

Castiel’s den filled up quickly with the garlicky perfume of pizzas and Dean was baking a buttery apple pie in the oven, making the house smell even more heavenly. 

Samandriel was the first to arrive, eager and carrying a bunch of meadow flowers he had spent his entire afternoon break gathering. There was an awkward moment when he stood at the door, grinning from ear to ear, thrusting the bouquet at Dean, then Castiel, then back again, unsure who he wanted to gift it to. Now he was on the couch, wide eyed as he listened to Dean recount the details of some stunt or another for the latest blockbuster, whilst said blockbuster flashed technicolour and muted on the screen. He looked like he was liveblogging the experience madly in his head, blushing and giggling and generally awed. 

Benny was second to arrive, bringing a card for Castiel that his students had made. It featured a broken black car, stick figures and, inexplicably, puppy dogs. One of the figures wore a policeman’s cap and the other had heart shaped green eyes. An enterprising youth had entitled the illustration ‘Ca5 CrUsh’ or possibly ‘Car Crash’, the handwriting wasn’t the best. Castiel carefully placed the card on the mantle, where it joined the largest collection of handmade Valentines day cards Dean had ever seen, full of red hearts, pink cards and purple glitter. There was one with a far too sophisticated sketch of Castiel’s smiling face and upon closer inspection Dean discovered it signed ‘Benny’. When Castiel was busy passing around the pizzas, the card disappeared into the back row. 

Mr Cain arrived with a sweet smelling tray of honey cakes that almost rivalled Dean’s pie. It was still warm from his oven and golden with a dusting of homemade semolina. He gave Dean a fixed look when he reached for the first bite and pointedly pushed the offering towards Castiel. Dean skulked in the kitchen while Mr Cain and Benny embroiled Castiel into a three-way conversation regarding a tree in the local playground that housed summer bees, with Castiel suggesting that Mr Cain could re-home the hive. Benny flexed his muscled arms to show Castiel the size of the tree trunk they were dealing with, causing Dean to raise his eyebrows and loudly tell Samandriel how many benchpresses he does in the gym with Sam. 

All night long, the door bell rang with surprise guests attending Castiel’s relaxed gathering. Kevin was doing a spot check on Castiel’s house plants (none surviving except for the fresh cactus). Eileen was there to drop off some cookies leftover from the sales of the day at the bakery. Donna swung by after her shift, with Jody in tow, at least Dean could get an update on his car part from her (‘Monday, Dean.’). By the time Daphne popped in to do a ‘mailbox inspection’, Castiel had given up on asking people why they were there. Balthazar and Henriksen were the last to arrive, carrying extra pizza boxes as if they had somehow divined that more guests than expected would appear. Henriksen nodded at Dean curtly saying a quick ‘what’s up gym guy’ with an arrogant grin. Even Dr Hannah Milton attended, Dean was startled by the black haired omega with large intelligent blue eyes. 

“Are you guys related by any chance?” Dean sniffed at her tentatively. 

“Not really, I’m a Milton and he’s a Shurley-Novak, but on the Shurley side there are Miltons a few generations ago,” Hannah said as if that explained anything at all. 

“Town lore is that the place was founded by the Shurleys and Miltons, with the Novaks coming in later. It was a very big deal when Hannah was born an omega and Castiel an alpha in the same year. If tradition had its way, in the olden days, they would have been destined for an arranged marriage. Reuniting the three oldest houses in the village.” Balthazar narrated with a wink, while Hannah and Castiel glared at him. 

“Oh, that so,” Dean said with a frown. 

“They did their coming out together,” Henriksen said with a shrug. 

Dean beamed but his face fell again when Donna clarified. “That’s posh for dinner party to get the upper classes to breed with each other.” 

“Dumbass traditions,” Jody commented disdainfully. “Bunch of snobs. You know Donna’s got some Novak in her and there were certain conservatives in town who looked down on our pairing because no matter how much we love each other and how good we are together, I didn’t have the right surname. Those jerks wouldn’t even look kindly on you Dean, even rich and famous, you’d be new money and considered common like me.” 

Dean’s face grew increasingly crestfallen but Castiel sat down next to him and handed him a slice of pie with vanilla ice cream. “I don’t pay any attention to that stuff Dean. And besides a soul bond is considered the most profound of any. No one can argue against a claim like that.” 

The room grew suddenly quiet as Dean looked into Castiel’s eyes. Though everyone in the room knew of the rumoured soul tattoo, this was Castiel’s first public admission. Dean licked his lips as he stared at Castiel’s mouth. Castiel tongued at his own suddenly dry bottom lip distractedly. 

“If such a claim is made,” he muttered awkwardly. “Ever.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, I need a beer!” Daphne proclaimed loudly to a chorus of agreement. The guests raided the fridge and scattered to set up the card game. 

“Maybe he truely isn’t interested in him,” Dean could hear Mr Cain whispering to Benny. “I thought for sure he would notice your interest but he appears completely unaffected.” 

“I thought he would be sweet on you,” Benny gave Mr Cain a slow warm smile. “Handsome old devil.” 

Cain gave Benny a smile sharp like a knife. 

“If its any consolation, I’ve had a crush on Castiel for my entire college life and now I work with him,” Samandriel lamented to Dean in a whisper. “I know I’ve hidden it well, but I don’t mind telling you.” 

“Ah thanks,” Dean stood up and made an excuse. “I gotta go um piss.” 

He walked out onto the balcony woodenly, Castiel was busy helping his friends assemble the card table. It was too dark to see the waterfall again and the sound of it was much fainter now that the deluge from the rain the night before had passed downstream. What Dean could hear sounded sweet and sad like a trickling stream of tears. He drained the bottle in his left hand and started one the one in his right. 

“You wanna go easy on the beers,” Hannah was standing in the moonlight, assessing him with her inquiring eyes. 

“I don’t have any shoots for a couple of weeks,” Dean looked down at his slightly swollen stomach. “Whatever, Sam can kick my ass when I get back.” 

“It’s a natural physiological response to the presence of your alpha,” Hannah said kindly. “The omega tends to put on a little weight, its hormones and a little by way of the body setting some energy in store in case of a pregnancy.” 

“Pregnancy!” Dean hissed. “I’m not getting knocked up. I’m tied up in contracts. And you heard him, he’s not claiming me.” 

Hannah looked at Dean with empathy. “You haven’t known Castiel as long as I have.” 

Dean’s back stiffened but she put a placating hand on his forearm, her scent was milky and calming. 

“My whole life pretty much, my family told me that Castiel was the one for me,” Hannah said quietly. “At one point I thought so too. You see when I moved back to Angelfell after finishing my medical training, I used to do shift work at the maternity ward at the metro hospital, while my patient base was still small. Lots of driving back and forth at weird hours. One night, on my way to a delivery, an elk ran onto the road and my car flipped. Castiel was the one who found me first. He was the one who pulled me out and performed CPR until Inias arrived on the scene. I was in hospital for months. I couldn’t get in the car without having a panic attack after that, jumped at shadows and movements on the road. Castiel gave up his weekends, training me to drive defensively. Said he’s a traffic cop and could be relied upon to teach me safe driving. It took a year for me to get back on the road. I thought after seeing each other for driving lessons for that long we might date or bond or something, but nothing ever happened apart from abiding friendship. I thought maybe he just wasn’t wired for that kind of thing and I don’t love him any less for it and I couldn’t love him anymore than I do. But its platonic.” 

Dean looked at her with wide eyes, nodding in understanding. 

“So yeah, I know what it feels like when you love Castiel and he doesn’t claim your heart back,” Hannah blinked at Dean owlishly. “But have you considered the fact that you need to claim him first?” 

“I wouldn’t know where to start...” Dean said flustered. 

“Patience and courage,” Hannah said. “And on that note I must tell you something...” 

“It was you that cut the wire,” Dean stated.

“You’re clever and good looking,” Hannah nodded. “Want me to pay for the repairs? How would you like to avenge your car?” 

Dean clenched his jaw. “Depends, how bad is he? If you dared to hurt my car then you took a calculated risk. Don’t sound like you’d break the law for a whim. Cas saved your life, you are trying to save his!” 

Hannah looked at Dean with steel in her eyes. “Confidentiality, Dean. And he would never want you to think that you had to be with him for his health. That devalues your intrinsic feelings for him.” 

“Then I only got one thing to say to you: thanks,” Dean nodded at her gratefully. “Thanks for wrecking my car and doing it with surgical precision.” 

Hannah smiled. “Be nice to my patient. I think he’s looking for you.” 

Dean turned his head to regard the chaotic scene inside the den, where Castiel was waving at him to take up a seat next to his. There were cards on the table and bottles and sweets on every available surface. The guests had gathered around the small card table, Balthazar was dealing and Henriksen was staring at the cards like he was going to count them Rainman style. Dean narrowed his eyes, he was in MENSA, he knew a card trick or two. He and Hannah returned to the den together, Hannah sitting with Samandriel who put on one of Dean’s romantic comedies. The two of them were joined by Daphne and all three snuggled under blankets with a bowl of popcorn and watched the film. The rest of the guests started a rowdy game of cards. 

“Why don’t we make it more interesting,” Mr Cain suggested. 

Henriksen didn’t bat a lash. “Officers present.” 

“We could play strip poker,” Donna said enthusiastically. 

“I am very good at cards,” Castiel said primly. “I am not averse to the challenge.” 

There was laughter and Castiel whispered into Dean’s ear: “I”m actually terrible but you look confident, would you like to team up?” 

Dean scooted closer to Castiel as they studied their hand together. They won the first game easily but then Mr Cain began to play in earnest. Plus Castiel’s hands kept accidentally brushing against Dean’s whenever they were reaching for cards or shuffling their deck. Their knees bumping when one of them leaned forward to play a card. The small casual contact made Dean hot in the face and thirsty in his mouth, so he kept reaching for the beers and downing them. Thinking about Hannah’s advice about claiming Castiel as his alpha made Dean break out in an anticipatory sweat. He wondered when the guests would finally leave in between slurred thoughts about cards. Soon they were losing and when Castiel was down to his uniform shirt (cuffs already on the table as the item he took off last round), Dean took over serving the stripping penalties. Castiel really was awful but Dean also suspected the other guests were cheating together. They were exchanging meaningful looks and winking and smiling and Henriksen really was clever enough to count cards. And Hannah was so reposed that she watched everyone intently before making any moves. Donna and Jody won games through team work. And Balthazar seemed completely unaffected by the copious amount of alcohol he was ingesting. All of this added up to Dean losing his pants, sitting in his designer briefs, with Castiel’s worn AC/DC t-shirt pulled over his knee, Dean watched with wide open mouth as Castiel folded his cards. 

Castiel shrugged and reached for the shirt button at this throat. 

“No Cas, my turn,” Dean put his hand on Castiel’s. Then he pulled his t-shirt off overhead. Every pair of eyes were glued to Dean’s chest instantly, where Castiel’s name glimmered blue, Dean’s torso awash with a sheen of sweat. 

The game limped on but died a quick death when Castiel lost one more time and took off his own shirt. 

“I need to go home,” Hannah gathered up her handbag, wrinkling her nose delicately. 

“Smells like firecrackers and impending sex in here,” Benny stood up. “Mr Cain, mind giving me a lift?” 

Henriksen pushed his chips into the centre of the table. “You two want a third? I don’t want to stay here tonight, the guest room’s not so soundproof.” 

Mr Cain gave Henriksen a long glance. “Been a long time since I had a cop ... in my house.” 

Henriksen winked at him. “I’m off duty friend.” 

“In that case, of course, you are most welcome. Perhaps we could enjoy some mead together,” Mr Cain said. “I have sausages for breakfast.” 

Kevin said something about needing to head home to sleep before hitting the flower markets early in the morning, Eileen signed that she needed to catch up on some rest before the bakery ovens needed tending to. Jody and Donna gave Daphne a lift and Samandriel was allowed to leave with Balthazar after a long interrogation from Castiel and Donna. 

Castiel seemed not to register the hasty departure of their guests. His eyes kept sliding back to his own name on Dean’s chest. 

Patience and courage, Dean told himself as he shut the door on the last departure. It was now time for the latter.


	12. Chapter 12

Dean's eyes slid down Castiel's chest, lingered over the fine calligraphy of his own name and felt a pang of satisfaction at the sight of it. A small voice sounded in the back of his head that his name belonged to Castiel's flesh and reigned over his heart. What would be the point of money and fame if he could not have his alpha, no award in the world would be as rewarding as having Castiel say his name in ecstasy. Dean raised a sweaty hand to touch Castiel's pectoral muscle, where upon a name, a mole and a dusky nipple warred for his attention. He once dreamed of seeing his name carved beneath a golden statue, but the figure of his alpha was far more gratifying.

Castiel's hands glided over Dean's shoulders, his palms melding to the muscles of his back, the air was warm between their bare chests. Castiel closed his eyes and tilted his head up as if to kiss. The air vibrated violently. Castiel made an inquiring sound, then his eyes snapped open and wide and he leapt away from Dean diving for his cell phone, his mouth splitting into a toothy grin as he read the message, his expression horrified with excitement.

"My pups are due!" 

With that singular announcement, he darted around the room picking up his clothes, putting on the t-shirt Dean had taken off by accident and buckling his pants over it. 

"Get dressed! The babies are coming!" Castiel growled out enthusiastically.

Dean's eyes grew wider and wider at these announcements. "We're not expecting, I'm not pregnant," Dean swallowed and scanned his memory frantically. "Am I?" 

Castiel gave Dean a blank look and shook his head. "Of course not, you didn't put in any forms. It's Henriksen and I. I'll call him in the car! We're gonna be parents!" 

Dean didn't know what to ask or where to begin to question Castiel. All he could do was throw on jeans and whatever shirt he could find (Castiel's work shirt) and pull on socks (one his, the other Castiel's, thankfully clean). 

"We'll need some blankets," Castiel said. "And you can stay warm in them while the car heats up, it'll be an hour's drive." 

He hurried Dean into the car, not pausing for a second to ask him as if he wanted to go along, his face baring that look like Dean would have to be a fool not to want to accompany him. 

"The kids can go in the blankets, after you've warmed it up with your body heat, your scent will be comforting to them," Castiel said as he started the engine, the car's siren wailing and flashing as he raced down the driveway. "There's a cardboard box in the boot, had it ready for weeks." 

Dean didn't know much about babies but that didn't sound right. The turn to Cain's house flashed past, Castiel made a couple of calls via blue tooth but Henriksen didn't pick up. 

"I think I saw Benny's truck parked in the trees," Dean said. "I hope Henriksen's okay. Mr Cain is a little scary." 

Castiel shrugged. "He does that sometimes, visits with Mr Cain and Benny. Something about poly ... polination?" 

Dean carefully kept his face neutral. "I don't think its a beekeeping thing." 

That got him a thoughtful head tilt. "Oh, is it a sexual thing?" 

"Yeah Cas," Dean smirked. 

"Good for them," Castiel said. "Though I resent the fact that he turned his phone off. Now I am burdened with parental responsibilities that should be shared. Dean, will you help me care for the young as your own?" 

A sudden gush of feeling infused Dean's chest, warm and fuzzy. "Uh, yeah, sure Cas." 

The loud siren prevented him from asking any more questions though and Castiel was driving with incredible skill that would rival a professional racer. His face intent with focus and his eyes sparkling with excitement. Dean pulled the blanket up to his chin and let velocity relax him into the passenger seat. He thought sleepily of the sex they could have been having were it not for the interrupting text message, but Castiel looked so happy and smelled so content that Dean was willing to miss out on that. After a while when Castiel worked out that the roads were deserted anyway, he turned off the sirens. Dean fell asleep to the sound of the rushing road and the rhythm of Castiel's steady breathing. 

He woke up to the sound of barking. There were no street lights, just a large bleak paddock, a single porch light illuminating a high chain wire fence. There was a police wagon in the front yard, the place had a look of rural horror movie about it. A glance at the clock told Dean they had made it to their destination in three quarters of an hour. Castiel got out of the car and Dean followed in shuffling dozy steps, though the cold wind and dewy ground woke him a little. There was a man standing menacingly on the porch, a hoodie pulled up around his ears and huge guard dogs seated at his side, with studded collars and majestic faces. 

"Novak, good to see you again," the man grabbed Castiel's hand in a familiar gesture of greeting. "You ready?" 

The dogs seemed to know Castiel too, giving a firm wag of their tails as he passed. Dean let one of the guard dogs inspect him and his blanket, it sat down again and pointed its nose at the door in silent acquiescence for his entry. 

"Your partner?" 

Castiel paused. "Where are my manners, sorry I'm too eager to see them, um, this is Dean. Dean, this is Gadreel."

Then Castiel was looking around in excited distraction again. 

"He looks kind of familiar, when were you at the academy?" Gadreel said.

"Huh?" 

"The police academy Dean, what year did you enter service?" 

"Oh," Dean tried not to look surprised. "Uh ...." 

Gadreel waited patiently. 

"Dean's not an officer," Castiel clarified. 

"He's wearing a uniform shirt," Gadreel said dubiously. 

Castiel blinked, looked at Dean for a few seconds and then said. "So he is, sorry I didn't notice. He's only wearing that because I grabbed his t-shirt by mistake. We dressed in a hurry when I got your call." 

It was Gadreel's turn to look taken aback. "Oh, I uh didn't realise um you were seeing anybody. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable when I asked you out at the conference." 

"You, you did?" Castiel was fluttering his eyelashes in bafflement. "I didn't quite realise. I thought you wanted to go camping and fly fishing in Tear Creek for the trout. Which I did think was weird because I didn't realise there was trout in there. But I would be happy enough to host you anyway, since I'm local." 

"I haven't seen Flame and Sword take to anyone so quickly as they did to you," Gadreel's dogs perked up their ears at the sound of their names. "Shame, they would have loved it if we dated. Hard to find a nice alpha who gets on well with them." 

"He's got a soul tattoo with my name on him," Dean heard the words fly out of his mouth. "And I got his name on me. Your dogs are very uh big but um he's my alpha." 

Gadreel turned his face to Dean. "Hmmm, that voice, did you dub Inspector Rex?" 

"I did the voice for a season or two, at the start of my career," Dean said slowly. 

"Oh, Flame and Sword are fans, I play that for them all the time," Gadreel said begrudgingly, then without any pause continued. "So are you guys mated?" 

Dean's mouth dropped open. "I don't see how that is any of your business..." 

"In the pack, any potential mates can present themselves for selection by the alpha right up until the alpha chooses the most superior contender and claims it by mating," Gadreel said, his incisors peeking out as he gave a cold grin. "Sometimes, when a very desirable alpha is at stake, the bitches fight for the privilege."

There was a sudden tension in the room, the two ginormous German shepherds watched Dean and Gadreel glare at each other with interest. 

"Where are they?" Castiel snapped at them both. "It's bad enough that Henriksen isn't here, there's no need to get territorial Gadreel, Dean's here at my invitation, he'll be just as good at looking after them, he's warm and affectionate." 

"He didn't watch the training video," Gadreel said in a low mope. 

Castiel growled and the two loyal German shepherds flanked Gadreel but cowered. 

"Fine," Gadreel led them into a kitchen where a plastic crate sat on a dining table. "Just trying to follow procedure."

His tone and his stance softened as soon as he went up to the crate though, he opened the top and reached in, cooing and smiling as he pulled out the first puppy. It was a German shepherd cross, with a wolfish Husky face. Castiel looked like he was in heaven when Gadreel placed the puppy in his arms. 

"And this one is part Labrador judging by his heft and gluttony," Gadreel took out the second puppy and nudged it into Dean's hands. "So you can have this one." 

Dean narrowed his eyes at Gadreel but the sight of the rounded pudgy creature made his face melt into an adoring smile. 

"Cas, we're parents!" Dean sighed. "Look at our puppies, what are we going to call them?" 

"Law and Justice?" Castiel said. 

"No way," Dean countered. "Cookies and Cream?" 

Gadreel rolled his eyes. "Officer Cookie and Officer Cream don't exactly strike fear into the hearts of criminals." 

"They're search dogs," Castiel pondered. "For deployment in rescue operations, so perhaps a less aggressive name would be helpful." 

Dean looked at the puppy in Castiel's hands. It had a blue eye and a brown eye flecked with green. "Grace," Dean said and looked down at the wriggling puppy with an angelic face. "And Halo." 

Castiel smiled and nodded. Gadreel helped them load the puppies into the cardboard box, Dean wrapping them in the blanket which they snuffled into and promptly fell asleep inside of. 

"They were found by animal rescue a few hours ago, abandoned, they brought them to me and I've booked all the veterinary appointments near the metro police station. They are healthy enough, but they need to be cared for and bonded with the officers before their training can commence. So you get a couple of weeks Novak to play and pamper them, then it'll be disciplinary training and skills development. In the meantime, enjoy the puppies." 

Dean volunteered to drive the police car so that Castiel could sit in the passenger seat and stare lovingly at the dogs. Dean enjoyed the experience of testing the police cruiser to its limit while Castiel just smiled dreamily and let the dogs lap in their sleep at his fingertip. By the time Dean followed the GPS back to Castiel's house, Castiel was slumped in the seat, his face buried in the blanket filled box and nuzzled by the dogs. All three were snoring gently. Castiel woke up long enough to climb the stairs to the master bedroom, Dean settled the dogs in the warmest corner of the room, left them water and shut the bedroom door. Castiel sighed gratefully when Dean pulled him into the warm bed, inserting himself into Castiel's arms. 

"We can walk them in the morning, take them outside in the garden," Castiel said yawning hugely. "Halo has your smile." 

Dean chuckled and wrapped his arms around Castiel's waist. "I think he's got my appetite, Gadreel said to watch his weight." 

Castiel mumbled in sleepy protest. "Its natural you know," his hand wandered over the softness of Dean's scrunched up belly. "I love this bit where there's just the slightest hint of wobble. Wish there was more." 

Dean bit at Castiel's earlobe gently. "Try telling a director that. I got a romantic comedy lined up next, so at least there's no muscle building needed. But Hollywood's not exactly body image positive." 

"You're perfect," Castiel rumbled into Dean's ear, hands rubbing the softest part of Dean's stomach, one straying to the rounded globe of his ass. "So perfect." 

"Shh, the pups are in the room," Dean whispered to Castiel. "Wait till they're asleep, or we can go down stairs for some privacy." 

Castiel muttered a complaint. 

"I'll try to get up in the night if they need a feed, but I think they look content enough for now," Dean said softly. 

"I'll do the next feed and take them outside for a toilet break at first light," Castiel murmured into Dean's shoulder. 

"Go to sleep Cas, they'll be up again soon enough," Dean said gently, kissing Castiel's temple but he was already dozing, snuffling into Dean's chest for the comfort of his scent. 

"So that's where they get the snuggling gene from," Dean grinned, closing his eyes blissfully. 

Castiel was right. He was perfect in this perfect little moment.


	13. Chapter 13

Dean had never been so exhausted in his life, not even when he did that long haul television show that shot 23 episodes in like four months. It was up, down, sideways, back and front again. He was on all fours for hours at a time, his knees and the heels of his palms turning a dusky shade of pink that was definitely going to invite questions. His back was shot from bending over, getting down low, wrestling in bed. And boy was it hard to get out of bed, every time he tried to leave Castiel’s spacious king size with puffy goose down quilts and vanilla scented pillows, he was tackled and slobbered again. 

It was only Castiel, turning a cold heart to the puppies for long enough to get to the kitchen, that provided Dean with sufficient servings of cheese on toast to subsist. Now it was almost noon and Grace was bouncing excitedly around the bed, chasing Dean’s bare heel. While Halo stole the toast and ran under the sheets to eat it in guilty peace. Until Grace dove beneath the covering to chew on Halo’s neck. Dean stared at the shape of pointy ears peaking beneath the cotton and was sure he was in a very close approximation of heaven. 

Castiel watched him with soft blue eyes, handing over the square of gooey french cheese encrusted bread he had been nibbling on. Dean leaned forward and opened his mouth before he could think too much of it and Castiel placed the crunchy savoury treat over tongue.

“Are you enjoying the puppy play Dean?” 

Dean choked and swallowed and sputtered. Castiel tilted his head and the puppies copied him as they came out to investigate why Dean was convulsing with laughter. With spots of colour in his cheeks, Dean picked up crumbs from his lap. 

“Not exactly what you think that means,” Dean wheezed through his nose. 

“You would have a very interesting internet search history,” Castiel rose to his feet. “I gather its something salacious.” 

Dean smiled. “Shh, not in front of the offsprings.”

“I think it would be good for our young to stretch their legs outside,” Castiel said, a sparkle in his eyes as he dug beneath the bed. 

Dean checked out his protruding ass but looked innocent when Halo followed Dean’s line of sight and decided to sniff Castiel a little too intrusively. Castiel put a cardboard gift box on top of the bed. It was printed with donuts and rainbows. 

“Donna and Samandriel gifted this to me when I completed the K9 training course, I’ve since added to the collection.”

Dean had never seen that many collars and leads (in a safe-for-work setting), some of them were tiny and pastel and had bells attached. 

“I think some of these are for kittens,” Dean took out a soft velvet powder blue band with tinkling silver bell and white bow detail. 

“I liked the look of that one,” Castiel tapped his finger gently on the tiny chime. 

Dean swallowed, putting that one aside. 

“Don’t gotta be too prescriptive, I guess,” Dean looked at the puppies. “They can wear whatever they like.” 

The two of them sorted through the pile of delicate and pretty treasures till Castiel chose a set of pastel rainbow collar and lead (‘so many colours) for Grace and Dean placed a rather adorably menacing spiked leather set on Halo. Castiel proposed that they walk the dogs via the overgrown track down the cliff. It was cool in the shade and they followed the sound of water all the way to the bottom of the valley, where Tear Creek ran crystal clear and shallow. There was a small wooden rowing boat tied to the banks, lovingly repainted in marine grey and handsome navy. Castiel rolled up his jean cuffs and walked barefoot into the stream, Grace sniffing at his discarded shoes and Halo pulling on the lead as he strained to go for a swim. Dean picked up the puppies, the husky cross whimpering until she was passed into Castiel’s arms and safely settled inside the boat. She lost her fear when she spotted a school of fish fry, glimmering silver under the water. Castiel offered Dean his arm, Dean took his hand and leapt agilely into the boat, Halo showing off with a yap as they landed. The boat rocked quite hard and it was absolutely necessary for Dean to fall into Castiel’s lap and settle there until (and after) the vessel stabilised. The rowing was easy, most of the time they were just adrift with the flow. 

“We’ll be in town in about an hour,” Castiel told Dean. “The river flows all the way to the lake in the park.” 

There was nothing else to do but relax and talk idly of small things. How Castiel became a police officer in Angelfell (running after his brother Nick, being on friendly terms with all the locals, knowing all the village gossip had all made him an ideal local officer). How Dean became a big-time actor (feeling rather shy and performing his bisexuality, surprising himself by not hating his agent Crowley and his publicist Naomi, being nice to people on sets and working hard). Why Dean was having a break from filming (production delays on the romantic comedy he’d signed up for because a castle critical to the script needed refurbishing, his co-star was holding out for more money, he wanted to give Sam and Jess some alone time before the baby came). 

“I row in the early mornings, at least once a week,” Castiel told Dean. “We don’t really have a gym in town and I think between this and the jogging I get enough exercise.” 

Dean looked at Castiel’s extended arms appraisingly. “Yeah, I’d say so. No wonder you beat me on the rowing machine.” 

Castiel smiled, his long lashes dropping over the sides of his hawkish eyes. “I’ll let you show off your stamina on the way home, we’ll be going upstream.” 

Unruffled by the challenge, Dean gave Castiel a playful wink. “I’ll be showing you how its done.” 

If it were not for the dogs, Dean would have kissed that look of startled desire off Castiel’s face, as it was he subtly bracketed his feet around Castiel’s bare soles. Castiel still had not put his shoes back on and he had high arches and mouthwatering ankles and Dean was so gone on the man that he thought his leg hairs had a sexy look about them. 

“I am experiencing arousal,” Castiel confided in a low voice, his eyes dipped low and shy. “Why do I always feel this way with you? Do you think it is the bond?” 

Dean shook his head. “You know I asked about that, when I first saw your name. I was very concerned. Thought that I was going to be hypnotised by some sort of scent love spell. Was worried that we’d be in heat and rut the second we meet. I mean that can’t be freewill.” 

“We did experience extreme attraction in New York,” Castiel said, licking his dry mouth. “And if you must know, I continue to feel a strong pull towards your genitalia.” 

The small wooden boat shot through two mounds of water wisteria, into the centre of the park pond, the word genitalia echoing to the background sounds of ducks and picnics. Castiel bit his lips. 

“Fuck you’re so cute,” Dean leaned forward to whisper into the alpha’s ear. “And my genitalia likes your genitalia too.” 

Scandalised, Castiel side glanced the puppies and said hoarsely to Dean. “We’ll talk more about this when we are home.” 

And all Dean could do was nod and smile at the constant use of the phrase ‘home’. At the sight of the rolling park lawns, the puppies whimpered in excitement. Castiel gallantly jumped into the water, soaking his jeans to mid thigh in the process, and tied the boat to the mooring. Halo gave a brave yap and followed suit, soaking Dean’s lap as he hit the water at great speed. Dean’s white t-shirt was soaked through too, Castiel’s name almost showing through. The dog didn’t care, he was just barking and paddling while Dean held his lead and shouted terrified exclamations for his welfare. Grace climbed into Dean’s spare arm with a look of indignity at being so close to the water. So Dean ensured she did not get touched by a single drop. They ambled along the boardwalk, Castiel bare foot and Dean in dripping pants, each holding a puppy lead. It was a sunny summer’s day so there was an old fashioned ice cream cart parked on the boardwalk, they ordered gelato. Dean’s cherry pie and Castiel’s peppermint came in huge scoops and were topped with whipped cream and chocolate syrup and crushed hazelnuts. 

Since it was the peak of the tourist season, the town was full of tourists. Coaches pulled into the town centre and crowds descended with wheeled luggage and backpacks. The few locals who walked past nodded at Castiel and Dean in greeting but no one made a fuss. Dean was looking a little less hollow cheeked than he did in his last film and his hair had grown long enough to show auburn curls, he had not shaved for a couple of days. All in all he was very much not what he looked like in posters so he felt a sense of peaceful anonymity as he walked with Castiel, their biggest concern was finishing off their ice creams before they melted. Castiel had been given an extra huge serving, something about helping Marv, who owned the gelato cart, track down the driver who knocked down his billboard some weeks ago. Castiel did not seem to be able to finish off his coconut snowflake mint concoction so Dean, helpfully, leaned over and took a bite for him. Then another, then they were facing each other, Dean licking and lapping and savouring and devouring. Forgetting all about the tourists, locals and even the puppies. 

“Hi Dean!” Said an accented voice. “Fancy seeing you here.” 

Dean opened his eyes and there stood Mick Davies, paparazzi, grinning broadly, dark zoom lens pointed at Dean. The camera made a flurry of clicking sounds, Dean grabbed Castiel’s hand, pulled him and the dog sideway, started running for the boat and swore as they got in. 

“Dean, if you didn’t want your photograph taken, I could have just asked him for his memory card,” Castiel said confounded by the wild look in Dean’s eyes. “I understand you may not wish to be seen with me in public or have our association published for consumption, but there is no need to run.” 

Dean grunted and rowed harder. Mick was still standing on the moor, waving and shooting. 

“I’m not fucking scared of him,” Dean said. “The guy is a little bit of a dick but there’s a bigger dick that he hangs out with. Or prick rather.” 

“What will he do with the photographs?” 

“Sell it, Sam might be able to buy it off him,” Dean blinked. “Or Charlie could uh make some files go corrupt. Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had to deal with this sort of thing.”

“Why would anyone want to pay for photos of you eating ice cream?” 

“Oh, they’ll pay for me eating from the hand of a handsome mystery man. Who’ll easily be traced as the town’s local police officer and as an omega he’s already scented that you are an alpha. Imagine the headlines ‘Dean Winchester’s Alpha Lover’.” 

After considering Dean’s words Castiel said slowly: “I think the headlines would be wittier with puns. ‘Omega, It’s Dean!’ Or ‘Knotty Star Licks Cream Off Alpha’ or something with sexual innuendo of some kind.” 

“Thank you Cas, thanks so much!” 

“You appeared wet from the waist down,” Castiel said thoughtfully. “And the waist up as well.” 

Dean looked down at this chest and swore. “He got the tattoo!” 

“‘Cas Out Of The Bag’,” Castiel suggested helpfully as another imagined headline. 

“I hate you right now,” Dean said loudly, arms pumping. “I really fucking do.” 

“Are you actually concerned for your career?” Castiel looked at Dean candidly. His eyes were cool and calm but Dean could not see the bottom of those blue pools. 

“You know how it looked, us two, puppies, rainbows, ice cream,” Dean spat out each word slowly. 

“Does it bother you?” 

“Not gonna lie,” Dean blinked with a surprised expression. “Not at all.” 

They made hamburgers from scratch that evening, ate them and made an attempt to put the puppies in the laundry. Then, dicks out and flustered, they dressed again and ran down the stairs and released the crying puppies back into the bedroom. There was a futile attempt to have sex in the laundry in the hopes that the dogs would not miss them if they had run of the bed. Exhausted and frustrated, they settled for a very fast hand job on the couch while the dogs were distracted by their kibble in the kitchen. There was a suggestion from Dean that the dogs could just fucking watch, but Castiel was adamant that they could wait for Henriksen to come over and pick up the puppies for a few hours in the morning since one of them will be working with Henriksen eventually. That made Dean have a sudden attack of separation anxiety which could only be appeased by him holding both dogs in his arms to sleep. Castiel had no idea how Dean was going to cope with leaving town once his car was fixed, maybe he was hatching a plan to kidnap the two future K9 officers. 

Or maybe, Castiel dreamt sleepily, Dean wouldn’t have to leave ever. 

In the morning, they were awoken by the sound of a familiar engine. Balthazar was honking the Impala’s horn in the driveway. 

“Special delivery for D. Winchester,” he said as he came out of the car and smiled cheerfully at Dean’s glowering look, tossing Dean the keys back. “Hey look, you get to joyride on Cas so I get to drive your car once, seems only fair.” 

“There has been no riding,” Castiel said stone faced and more grumpy than usual even for a Monday morning. “The puppies are relentless, where is Henriksen?” 

“Haven’t you heard? He’s on bedrest, threw his back out at Cain’s the other night,” Balthazar winked wickedly. “Said he was helping pull out a big tree root in the middle of the night.” 

“That explains why he isn’t here,” Castiel said darkly. “I need to go to work but I also want to say goodbye to Dean properly. So here.” 

Balthazar found two leads thrust into his hand. 

“Take them for a walk please,” Castiel commanded. “We will be twenty minutes.” 

Dean sucked in air through his teeth. “Come on Cas, nothing I wanna do can take under an hour.” 

Castiel arched his eyebrow. “I can be extremely efficient and expedient.” 

“Much as I like the idea of walking your dogs while you try to one up each other with fellatio or whatever,” Balthazar sighed airily. “I’m afraid there is no time for that. Castiel do you remember the appointment we set for your calendar shoot with Mrs Tran? Well she has been called out to another state for an emergency calving. So we’ve had to engage a different volunteer photographer. New resident to the town, priest from the church, friend of Cain’s actually. He’s waiting for you to show up right now, this is the only opening in his calendar. He says you should bring your police car and be in uniform.”

“I ... I thought Daphne was still working on a design concept,” Castiel began to protest. 

“Oh don’t worry, the priest won her over to his idea, he sounds rather charming though I haven’t met him myself yet,” Balthazar said with a crooked grin. “Probably some old guy, but if you think he can get me back into Sunday mass, let me know Cassie.”

When Castiel shook his head again, Dean interjected. 

“I don’t need to rush off just cause my car’s fixed,” Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “Like if you want Cas, I can hang around maybe one more night, uh day. I wanna, wanna see more of the town.” 

“More of Cas town, most like,” Balthazar laughed excusing himself to go and do a property inspection of a farm further down the valley, taking the dogs with him and promising to bring them to the police station where Samandriel could keep an eye on them (and probably cuddle them for the next 8 hours). 

Castiel turned to look at Dean with fond eyes. “I’ll take you around via the scenic route, we can go nice and slow.” 

Dean lowered his head and muttered. “Rather be cruising Cas town.” 

Castiel smiled at his rear mirror as he watched Dean follow the police cruiser in the Impala. Dean behind the wheel of the vintage automobile looked like some classic Hollywood heartthrob. Except that’s what he was even without the car. Classic, beautiful, everything Castiel never knew he wanted.


	14. Chapter 14

"Father Damian Dane," said the man who was way too suave for a priest and Dean disliked him instantly. 

He wore those round black sunglasses that reminded Dean of 90s Brit Pop bands, the traditional priestly garb of long black robes and neat black pants. His shoes were leather boots polished to a mirror shine. Damian Dane had a habit of fingering the snowy white collar at his throat whenever Castiel shifted into a pose that pleased him. At his bidding, Castiel was now clambering onto the front of the police car, the sun baking down upon him as he tried to get comfortable. 

"Loosen that collar a little," Damian Dane instructed. "Take the hat off, let's see that luscious hair." 

Dean was pretty sure Damian Dane, detailed costume notwithstanding, was no priest. 

"So how do you know Mr Cain?" Dean asked through gritted teeth. 

"Met him in a monastery in Sicily, he was an honoured guest of several local families, there for a little arbitration. Mark Cain is a very persuasive name in our fair city." 

"Right," Dean rolled his eyes. "That sounds totally legit. And you are here why?" 

"Well, the priest has retired and I am here to help provide the town with spiritual guidance until a new priest or nun can be appointed officially by the Vatican." 

"Uh huh, and you'll be guiding them to the nearest crossroads?" Dean said sarcastically. 

"I am not sure I understand, what is there?" 

"Demonic pacts and soul deals," Dean said venomously. 

"You have been watching too much of the Good Omens," Damian Dane laughed, it was a husky breathy laugh and when he took off his sunglasses, his eyes were darkest brown, almost black, even in the glaring sunlight. 

Dean could see Castiel's eyes gliding from Damian Dane to him and back again. Dean took in the high cheekbones, full lips, sharp jawline and milky skin dusted with freckles. He couldn't see the attraction himself. Damian Dane was devilishly handsome but there was a sort of barbarity to his beauty. A little too sharp and pointy for Dean's liking. Castiel though, looked enthralled. He patiently listened to Damian's instructions despite their ridiculousness. 

"Traffic enforcement does not require use of a truncheon," Castiel stated regretfully. "I am not sure what you mean by 'show me your large policing stick' Mr Dane." 

"Call me Father Dane, or simply, Damian," the priest offered. "I merely meant, show us the paraphernalia of your profession. Your weapons."

The priest nodded happily when Castiel carefully produced his handcuffs, but he did ask Castiel to tuck away his notepad and pen.  

"Very nice Castiel, look coldly at this camera in my hand, as if you are about to press the weight of the laws down upon me," Damian continued. "I like to keep an informal, warm relationship with my flock, so you can address me casually if you like. I am sure we will see a lot more of each other around town, especially when all the visitors leave."

Dean bristled as Damian gave him a knowing smile. 

"Although," he turned back to Castiel, dark eyes glittering. "You should address me as Padre if you are on your knees."

"I am not in regular attendance at The Holy Cassiel Angel Of Tears," Castiel said in a contrite tone. "I am afraid it has been many years since my last confession." 

"I must have you soon then," Damien grinned, all sharp incisors and wicked charm. 

Dean saw Castiel tilt his head like he had a habit of doing when he saw something interesting, inexplicable or inviting and Dean's heart clenched all of a sudden like a tightening fist. It was one thing for the town's locals to be in love with Castiel, when he never took any notice. It was another for this interloper, this slick mafioso, to barge into town and tempt Dean's alpha. For a second, Dean contemplated called Sam to call a halt on trying to buy Mick's tattoo photos. Maybe it was better if the world knew that Dean was Castiel's acclaimed and Castiel his. 

"Will you unbutton your shirt, two, three buttons, perhaps all the way?" Damian asked. "You know how these calendars are." 

Castiel blushed hotly. After a moment's stiff fumbling, he let loose one button. Damian Dane darted forward, thrusting the camera close to Castiel's body, pulling himself onto the car, almost clambering to shoot close ups of Castiel's chest. 

"Very tempting, very attractive, you have a beautiful face and simply gorgeous eyes," Damian murmured. "If it were up to me, it would just be a big shot on your face, the rest is cream on the pie. Oh what is that?" 

Dean stepped forward when Damian's hand pushed at Castiel's shirt, the fabric shifting aside and an emerald letter peeked out. 

"Is that a ‘D’ I see before my eyes?" Damian smiled, laughing at his own joke. "Heaven preserve me, if that is the name Damian on your chest I would be willing to give up my faith in pursuit of a more earthly paradise." 

Dean shot forward. "You'll find the D is for Dean, dick"

"Dean Dick?" Damian barked out a dismissive laugh. "What a silly name." 

"Dean Winchester!" Dean called out in exasperation. 

"Like the movie star?" Damian smirked. "The closeted one that plays all of the alphas?"

"Closeted?!" Dean challenged. "I never ... he never said anything about not being an omega!"

'Neither did he ever try to speak up for omegas playing alpha roles," Damian retorted. "The silence is deafening." 

"I hardly think I owe everyone the world over my personal details," Dean countered. "Just because you watch me, or you know of me, or you like me, or loathe me, your opinion means nothing to me. I might make films, I might play roles, but they are my artistic expression. You own your interpretation but I own me." 

Damian looked at Dean askance, then he hunched over with laughter. "Is this friend of your's serious? He might look a little like the movie star but he is too unrefined and rough and ready to be the most beautiful man on earth." 

"That is not my friend," Castiel jumped off the police car. "I hope you have enough images for Daphne and Balthazar to select from. I am late for my duties and my boyfiend is late for his journey." 

The sound of Damian Dane hissing at the revelation was like heavenly harps to Dean's ears. 

"Yeah, you heard him, I'm his boyfriend," Dean said proudly. "So take your holy cookies and shove it in your own mouth!" 

"Wafers, Dean," Castiel chided gently. "The sacrament." 

"Well, that's the only body he'll be tasting," Dean said blasphemously. "Try not to jerk off too hard to those photos, papa Smurf or whatever you wanna be called, they're for charity!" 

Castiel pulled Dean away by the arm just as Damian Dane shot him a look full of venom. "Come on, baby, let's go."

Dean gave Castiel a shocked look. "Sorry?" 

"Let's roll honey buns," Castiel said mechanically, then going on his tiptoes even pressed a chaste kiss to Dean's cheek. 

"What, what are you doing Cas?" 

"Affectionately displaying in public," Castiel explained. 

"Oh," Dean ducked his head. "Okay. I um I like it when you display, I guess." 

"Well done, cutie pie," Castiel gave Dean a prolonged wink and when Dean turned to get into his car he jumped when Castiel slapped his rear. 

Leaving the photographer to his own devices, Castiel stood speaking to Dean as he moved himself into the Impala. 

"When will I see you again?" Castiel asked Dean as the seatbelt was fastened. 

"I don't know," Dean said slowly. "I gotta sort out some things with my schedule and there's the Mick Davies mess to sort out and uh I have some contractual obligations for a transatlantic production. So I might be a little scarce for a bit." 

Castiel nodded understandingly. "Well, you know where I live Dean." 

Dean blinked the sudden mist out of his eyes. "Yeah, I have an inkling." 

"And you have this reminder," Castiel touched his fingers to his own heart. 

It was as if their two hearts were joined together with string, Dean definitely felt a painful tug in his chest. It was sore and sweet. 

"So I'm gonna go then?" 

Castiel nodded, taking a step back and staring at Dean while the window was slowly wound up. Dean started the engine, then it cut abruptly and the window came down again. 

"Please tell me that Damian Dane guy is some dressed up look alike prankster Balthazar's hired to make me jealous," Dean said all of sudden, in a great rush. 

Castiel raised his eyebrows. "Uh, not that I'm aware of."  

Dean cursed under his breath. 

"Fine, no church for you!" 

"I'm not an active attendee," Castiel reiterated. 

"Call me," Dean said. "Every night and we can like I dunno have phone sex or something." 

"I do not wish to have sex with a cell phone," Castiel's confusion was palpable. "And neither do I have your cell number." 

"Great, call me when you get home tonight," Dean had already begun to say, he stopped abruptly. "Shit Cas, I didn't give you my number?" 

"Nor did I offer you mine," Castiel said sincerely. 

"Yes, but I got that on file, like Charlie has it. And your social security and badge number," Dean blurted. "She can get eyes you at any time of the day. Probably has your work roster for next month already." 

"Uh... that would be unlikely as Donna likes to do those at the last minute," Castiel began to say. "Why is Charlie breaking privacy codes so willynilly." 

"You're my alpha, my one true mate," Dean said a little hysterical. "She's been on your case for months, ever since I woke up with your name. Pulling the strings behind the scenes, but she's a lot more subtle than your friends from town. When I saw you in the hotel, I just knew she would have had something to do with your room switch. And this pie tour, that's not even trying to be sneaky, I think she and Sam got desperate because you didn't come to New York for months. So they made me come to you." 

Castiel looked a little concerned. "I'm sorry if you feel put upon by these orchestrations, I never intended ..."

"No Cas, I'm grateful," Dean looked at Castiel with wide green eyes. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm a bit of dumbass with this romance stuff. And you're not that much better I gotta say!"

Castiel smiled shy and small. 

"But now we got puppies together ..." 

"... Technically they are police officers in training so ownership is purely conjecture ..." 

"We got puppies together, we named them together, they know us as parents," Dean said vehemently. "I know your friends, you can get to know my family. I might be going away right now, but I'm not going, you get me?" 

"I think I do," Castiel said then he leaned in again, his mouth hot on Dean's, his tongue slow and savouring. 

The kissed didn't last long, they broke apart when Damien Dane drove past in his black Porsche scattering gravel against the Impala. 

"That's it!" Dean growled. "I'll see you later Cas! Text you my cell after I catch up with Damian Dick." 

Castiel stood back just in time for Dean to pull out aggressively behind Damian and accelerate to catch up with him. They were both over the legal speed limit. Castiel placed his hat on his head and slipped on his aviators. He started his vehicle and pulled out after three seconds of indicating then he put on his siren and began his chase. 

The Porsche must have been modified. It disappeared around the curve of a seacliff. Dean accelerated even faster, taking the bend a little too recklessly, there was something flashing in his rearview and when he turned down the music he could hear sirens. 

"What the fuck Cas!" Dean shouted and waited for Castiel to over take, but he didn't. Instead Castiel sounded his horn and gestured for Dean to pull over. 

Dean let out an angry huff and drove the Impala onto an embankment. Just behind a 'You're Leaving Angelfell - A Town To Fall For' sign. The slamming of metal and the crunch of the gravel told Dean that Castiel was walking up to the Impala. There was a tap on his window and he could just see Castiel's abdomen and chest. 

"Hello Officer," Dean said, rolling down his window again.


	15. Chapter 15

"Your licence please," Castiel was the picture of professional detachment as he leaned down to speak to Dean through the window. He had his aviators on, Dean noticed how wide eyed and flustered his own reflection looked. 

"Why'd you pull me over and not him?" Dean gestured impatiently. 

"I do not believe his vehicle to be street legal, procedure is to report rather than detain such automobiles," Castiel said quietly. "I made a direct request, Sir." 

"Sir? It was honey cake and babe a minute ago," Dean crossed his arms belligerently. 

"I am on duty now," came the cool reply. "I won't ask again." 

Dean couldn't see Castiel's eyes behind those reflective sunglasses but he could sense Castiel ‘meant it’ from the stillness of the police officer’s body, the razor sharp focus on him. It was oppressive and exciting at once. 

"Right Cas, you're gonna write me a ticket? Gonna put your number on it?" 

"As a matter of fact, yes," Castiel stuck his hand through the window, hooking his index finger in a commanding gesture. 

Like Dean was going to obey him without question, as if Dean would not be able to resist his authority, and he was right. Dean handed over his licence. Castiel copied down the details carefully and ripped a piece of paper from a stack. 

"I hope you have enjoyed your stay in Angelfell," Castiel said. 

Dean looked down at the slip of paper. It was a county traffic infringement ticket, for a $100, for exceeding the speed limit. He turned it over, there was no further annotation or a cell phone number, not even an apologetic smiley face. 

"It can be paid via American Express, Visa, via cheque or even at the local post office in town," Castiel said mildly. "Have a nice day, Sir." 

Dean balled up the ticket and threw it under the dash. He breathed deep and slow through his nose. "Officer Novak," he said ominously. "I want to make a complaint." 

"Regarding?" 

"An officer of the law, police, you." 

Castiel's eyebrows raised. "On what grounds?"

"Bias, fraternisation with a member of the general public." 

"I don't see how you would make out such a complaint," Castiel blinked. "It would be bias if I did not pull you over and issue you with the fine. If any personal feelings came into it, and I am certainly not making an admission that it did, a genuine interest for your personal safety and driving record was at stake." 

Dean was out of the car, his face livid, Castiel took a step back. 

"That's not the fraternisation bit," Dean marched up to Castiel, crowding him against the backdoor of the Impala. "This is." 

Dean didn't quite know what had overcome him, perhaps it was emotional turmoil at having to depart, perhaps it was the stubborn tilt of Castiel's hips against the metal of his car, or maybe the soft sound he made when Dean pressed against him and possibly the sudden rise of mossy and creamy scents from their bodies. It seemed absolutely critical to spin Castiel around, grab him by the hips and bend him over the low slung trunk of the Impala. Dean ground himself over Castiel's ass wantonly, the full glaring daylight and passing traffic notwithstanding. 

"Someone's going to call the police," Castiel said, his voice thick with arousal. "Open the back door Dean." 

Dean's fingers slipped clumsily on the handle but eventually the backdoor of the Impala swung open. They piled in, Castiel on his back with his hands pinned above his head, and Dean scrambling over the top of him, desperately pulling the door shut with the toe of his boots.

"Heaven help me, I want you," Castiel said, staring up at Dean, his sunglasses had fallen off. 

Dean didn't say anything, the scent of Castiel glowed within the general atmosphere of leather and the pine perfume of engine oil. Castiel looked shocked and turned on, his uniform wrinkled and bulging in places. 

"This is not in accordance with the policing handbook," Castiel lamented. "And I wrote the local department policy and this is very irregular and I should radio the station for backup." 

"No backup," Dean tapped the radio on Castiel's shoulder. "Turn it off. We don't want to worry anyone when you moan." 

"I'm not going to ..." 

"Turn it off Cas, you're gonna be loud," Dean licked his lips, eyes sliding down Castiel's body. "I'm laying my claim Cas. I'm not leaving town without leaving my mark." 

Castiel was panting eagerly, his eyebrows raised and his blue eyes so startled that Dean had to kiss his cheeks. 

"Turn over for me," Dean said softly. 

Castiel grew red in the face. "I need to know what you plan to do. To mentally prepare myself." 

"Of course," Dean said sweetly. "I plan to ravish you, penetratively if you would permit me." 

Castiel choked on a whimper. "I would very much, but, I have not, very much..." 

Dean stopped, cupping Castiel's cheek in his hand. "Sorry, what are you trying to say?" 

"I'm not experienced, I'm ..." Castiel swallowed, his sultry yet awkward expression was utterly endearing. "Anally virginal." 

Dean tried not to gasp but his heart hammered in his chest, his pulse raced, his hand trembled though his voice remained gentle and only a little shaky. "That's all right Cas." 

"I'm not sure if it will fit," Castiel blinked rapidly. "I haven't really studied. I should refresh my carnal knowledge and perhaps with three days notice I can watch the right adult documentaries ..."

"We don't have to Cas, if you are not ready," Dean said placatingly. "We could do something else, use our mouths like before maybe?" 

"But, but I want to," Castiel shuddered. "I only do not wish you to form a diminished view of my prowess if I am not accustomed to your girth or length." 

Dean let out a soft laugh. "I have no doubt that you are my alpha and I will never find you wanting, but I gotta say the whole virgin alpha thing is kinda hot." 

"I am no warmer than any other alpha," Castiel said. "And when I knot you you will know my dominance ..." 

The rest of Castiel's seductive threats were muffled into the leather as Dean rolled him over with eager hands. Dean pulled the belt from his jeans and offered the leather strap to Castiel "You can bite on this if you like." 

"I will not need ..." 

Dean pulled down on Castiel's pants and went to work, stopping after a few moments to lean over the front seats and open the glove box for condoms and lubrication. 

"That is not the best method of keeping prophylactics," Castiel said bossily, where he was lying bare assed on his face. 

"Don't gotta worry about pregnancy when you fuck an alpha," Dean said confidently. "And I'm clean, and you're you know, so this is more for the leather interior than anything else." 

Dean licked and poked and kissed until Castiel was writhing and fucking into the grooves of the seats. Thoughtfully, he took Castiel's hand and placed himself in his palm. 

"Just feel for size and proportion, I'm gonna get that into you Cas, I'll go slow and make it good," Dean said. "Can you help me guide it to where you would like me to go?" 

Castiel's hips roiled and Dean's eyes rolled into his skull a little when he felt the heat envelop the tip of him. 

"Take it easy," Dean grabbed Castiel's hips. The alpha had narrow hips with sizeable buttocks, full hamstrings and rather solid thighs. He was a little heavy duty below the waist and Dean loved the weight of his ass in his hands. "Don't push back, let me get in slow and easy." 

"It feels, feels good Dean," Castiel panted, he sounded surprised. "I am extremely aroused." 

"Good to hear," Dean said, dreamily. "That's real nice feedback. Let me find the angle." 

"What angle?" Castiel asked puzzled then his hips snapped and he let out a deep groan. "Oh, that." 

Dean titled his hips and gave an upward push. Castiel let out a wanton sigh. 

"Do you like me there alpha?" Dean asked proudly. "I'm gonna be your first and only, say it." 

Castiel let out a shuddering breath. "Dean, I'm going to climax." 

"No, say it first." 

"Dean!" 

Dean pulled out completely and Castiel shivered and clawed the seat. "Back to the start then. I'll begin with tongue." 

Castiel tried to spin around, to grab or to pull but Dean clamped his damp thighs around his hips. "No cheating." 

This time, Castiel sobbed as Dean used his mouth, progressing back to fingers and when he slid in again Castiel was all but begging. He begged very sweetly, called Dean his omega over and over. But Dean didn't give in until Castiel was all but laying still and silent in bliss and agony. Then Dean sunk in again, to the root. 

"What do you say?" 

"First... and only," Castiel fisted his hands. "First and only Dean. You're my first and only Dean. My omega." 

"Awesome," Dean said and came into the condom. 

Castiel let out a relieved breath. "I am afraid that your leather interiors may be somewhat stained. And my uniform is ruined, again." 

Dean smiled into Castiel's back. The alpha tried to move. 

"What are you doing?" Dean asked quietly. 

"Turning around?" Castiel said innocently. 

"Oh no, not yet," Dean said in a sing song voice. "I wanna do second and only now." 

So Castiel stayed where Dean wanted him. Until Dean lost count of the numbers. 

=*=*=*= 

The sky was red and pink and azure by the time Dean and Castiel came out of the Impala again. Their clothing somewhat put to rights, though Castiel by necessity had to wear a pair of gym pants Dean had in his trunk. Dean had put on a fresh pair of jeans, he put the damp denim inside Castiel's trenchcoat and rolled it up, returning the bundle to Castiel. 

"I want you to smell our mingled scent every time you come from now on," Dean said firmly. 

Castiel nodded shyly and walked back to the police car to put the clothes in the trunk. 

"So I got the time to watch the sun set, if you do?" Dean offered. "Come up here." 

"I have been missing from work all afternoon and all I have are these thumbsup emojis from Donna on my personal cell so I assume I am not desperately needed at the station." 

Castiel climbed onto the front of the Impala with Dean, he opened his legs and Dean settled between them. 

"I would like to knot you Dean," Castiel whispered into Dean's ear, his breath hot and wet. "Perhaps you could stay one more night, tonight, and I could claim you with my knot in our bed." 

Dean closed his eyes. That sounded like a heavenly idea. "Thought you'd never ask ... lemme just get my breath back then we can drive home." 

They watched the sunset in gleeful anticipation, the sky a vivid painting of rich colours and mesmerising beauty neither of them had hitherto seen. When the sky darkened and the passing traffic turned on their headlights, a car drove into town, u-turned to park behind Castiel's police car and two men emerged. Dean narrowed his eyes at the new arrivals, extricating himself from Castiel's arms. 

"Mick?" Dean called out to the figures standing in the gloom of dusk. "What are you doing back here?" 

Castiel had followed Dean, the two of them jumped off the embankment and walked up to the men. 

"You are that photographer," Castiel said curtly. "Very well, thank you for returning, I am placing you under arrest and you will be coming to the police station with me to answer harassment charges." 

"Who'd I harass?" Mick said with a smile, opening his arms. "Dean and I know each other, we were just hanging out in old London town a month ago. With my friend here." 

"Who is your friend?" Castiel asked sternly. 

"My name is Arthur Ketch," the tall Englishman offered a large hand which Castiel ignored coldly. "BAFTA winner three years running, Golden Globe nominated for my war film, and of course Most Desirable Alpha according to most magazines."

"I am not aware of your existence, precluding the fact that I currently find you irksome," Castiel stated in a flat voice. 

Dean was looking at Ketch with dread in his heart. 

"Well, you should know I exist. Dean should have told you about me," Ketch made a nonplussed face. "As a matter of fact, I am Dean's alpha and he is my omega. Has been the deal for years. So rather than you standing there questioning who I am, let me ask you, who the fuck are you?" 

Castiel looked at Dean with a disbelieving expression. Dean opened his mouth and all that tumbled out was "Oh my god Cas, let me explain." 

"You are lying. Dean is my omega," Castiel took a step forward, raising his head challengingly. 

"I have it in writing," Ketch's voice was smooth and steady. "Matter of fact is Dean isn't allowed any other alphas apart from me, we have an exclusive, so when Mick saw him here with you and took those photos, he contacted me. I've just driven here from the airport. Dean, you are in breach and you must now tell this man that you are my omega and only mine." 

Dean opened and closed his mouth. 

Castiel gave Dean a long heartbroken look. "Dean, come into the police car with me." 

Dean shook his head. 

Castiel blinked, his face falling. "Then, go in the Impala and drive away from these men." 

"I can't Cas, I gotta go with them." Dean said apologetically. 

"Now Dean," Ketch said. "Give the Impala keys to Mick, he'll tail us, you're coming in the car with me omega." 

Dean looked between Cas and Ketch, then with a curse tossed his keys to Mick. 

"It's not what it looks like," Dean said to Castiel. 

Castiel whirled on Ketch. "You know a man I know who trains dogs say that if two males want the one female, they can fight for him. If we are two alphas vying for Dean, I would challenge you for him." 

Dean made an appalled sound, while Ketch laughed. "Oh no, honey, we've signed papers, it's all legal." 

Castiel turned to Dean. "I don't believe a word he says." 

Dean could only say, in between dabbing at his cheeks. "I would never put you in a position Cas where you have to hide. So I can't be your omega right now, I'm sorry. If I could change anything, I would change this." 

Castiel swallowed, his eyes glistening though he sounded calm. "I see Dean. I understand. I wish you well." 

"Cas," Dean whispered as the alpha limped away slowly back to the police car and got in. 

"Please .... drive safely, Dean," Castiel said and then he started the engine and disappeared down the road.


	16. Chapter 16

Life went on as it did before in quiet little Angelfell. Castiel attended the annual fourth of July celebrations in the park, sitting on a picnic blanket with Gabriel by his side. Apparently the new broadway production Gabriel was currently masterminding was on a sort of hiatus, so Gabriel could fit in a few days off. With his brother back in the house for a handful of days, things were a little less quiet. And at least Gabriel watered the houseplants that showed up with Kevin every few days and ate the copious supply of cassaroles Daphne dropped off with Castiel’s mail. If Castiel noticed that Hendriksen was calling him once a day or that Hannah had doubled his appointments, he didn’t make any remarks. Balthazar informed him that they were going to Vegas in a few weeks and that he had already sorted out the leave arrangements with Donna. Castiel could sense the subtle manipulations his friends were exercising upon his schedule, he was never quite alone in the sociable hours of the day. When he went for a jog with the dogs, he would often bump into Mr Cain and Damian Dane, who gave him dark knowing smiles and polite friendly greetings. Samandriel supplied him with mugs of coffee and Donna was buying the donuts for a change. Once, Jody came in to drop off Donna’s lunch and left her work organiser on Castiel’s desk by mistake. There was a bright lime green post it on the front of it with a familiar first name scrawled and a cell number. Castiel returned the organiser to Donna’s desk without a second glance. So when the fireworks started, Castiel listened to his friends exclaim and laugh and point, unmoved. His knees below his chin, his jacket zipped up high, Castiel could sit in closed-off stillness and feel the relief of nothing much happening. 

Then a bright lone firework shot into the sky, climbing high into the horizon till it almost disappeared from view, then curved and slid down against the velvet night like a shooting star. With a loud boom it imploded into a humungous cascade of emerald brilliance. Slowly sparkling like a chandelier hung out of reach in the heavens. Castiel stared, unable to close his eyes or look away, as the green light called to him in the sky. 

The dogs were quieting down now that they had started their daily training. In mid-July a routine scan showed that Halo had a previous injury on one of his hind legs. 

“You can still train him with Grace but he shouldn’t be deployed, a nasty fall or entanglement with a target and he could snap his back leg. As it is, you’ll have to watch his diet, labs tend to put on too much weight. He’ll be more prone to arthritis in that spot when he’s older,” Gadreel told Castiel matter of factly. “I could re-home him for you.” 

Castiel declined the offer hastily. “No, I want to keep him. He’s good company.” 

“I could show you some massages you can do to help the muscles strengthen properly as he matures. Perhaps we could meet up on a weekend?” 

Castiel blinked at Gadreel. “Is this a personal meeting?” 

Gadreel nodded, his grey eyes stormy. “I could become very personal. I could bring my tent and we can take the dogs into the wilderness, go traversing across streams and climb some mountains maybe. It would help build up their endurance and yours, if you like.” 

“A sexual proposition then,” Castiel looked Gadreel blankly in the eyes. 

“Yes,” Gadreel didn’t smile, he just stared back at Castiel. 

“I have no interest in having sex with you, unfortunately,” Castiel said without a flicker of emotion. 

Gadreel nodded with answering candidness. “The offer is there if you need it, I find your appearance appealing and you are a straight forward man. There are few people in the world I feel I can understand. You and I we are alike in some ways. Our compatible physiology is also convenient.” 

Castiel agreed. Gadreel was perhaps a suitable match for him. Most people considered the alpha tall and handsome, strange and a little intimidating. His preference for the company of nature and animals was well matched for Castiel’s current mood for solitude. They could feasibly commence and maintain a relationship, enjoy occasional intercourse in the woods, raise a huge pack of dogs. The idea left Castiel feeling cold. 

“But you are not a wolf,” Gadreel said watching Castiel’s immobile face. “You are a dog, one with a master. And a collar over your heart is far more permanent than one on your neck.”

Castiel’s eyes twitched in suppressed anger. 

“If you want to fight, let’s do it,” Gadreel said. “We can gnaw each other’s throats if it helps.” 

“I need to go home and feed the dogs,” Castiel said after a moment’s hesitation. “I appreciate the offers you have made to me, Gadreel.”

Gadreel didn’t smile when they parted, just stood at his doorway and watched Castiel get back into the police car with an immobile stare and one stiffly raised arm in farewell.

=*=*=*=

In August, a film was released with much Oscars hype behind it. The star of it had always played alpha roles, but this was to be his first ever outing as an omega. The headlines in the tabloids could not stop gushing about the significant news that the star was also in a new relationship with an overseas counterpart. The revelation that Dean Winchester was not only playing an omega on screen but was also an omega in real life was sensational publicity for his new film. It was a strange choice of screenplay as well, a period piece shot mostly in the UK. The many interviews featured Dean with a British actor by the name of Arthur Ketch, something of a tabloid darling across the Pacific. Ketch was reputedly Lord Ketcherly the Third and distantly a royal cousin. He was also an alpha and it is said his mated omega, regardless of gender (due to recent legislative amendments) would be considered, loosely, royalty. 

All this, Castiel gleaned while standing in the queue of the supermarket, from magazine covers. He put the bread and milk back in their respective shelves and walked out. The next time he was there, Hester abruptly shut off her cash register and called to him to be served at another counter. 

Halo put on half a pound with the approach of autumn and Castiel began grating carrots into his kibble. Grace received her induction training and was a forerunner in tracking and scavenging training. 

By September, Hannah cautioned Castiel on his low mood and placed him on hormonal supplements. The dreaded ruts that she had been concerned about as a side effect of Castiel’s decision not to claim his intended did not eventuate. If anything, Castiel was less prone to ruts even than before. 

Just prior to the Vegas vacation that Balthazar was insisting they go on, Castiel visited his best friend in a professional capacity. 

“I would like to rent out my house,” Castiel told the real estate agent. “For three months. I am considering a dog training exchange placement with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.” 

Balthazar quickly schooled his surprised expression into something friendly and entrepreneurial. “I could find someone for you, a nice family perhaps, who’ll want to spend Halloween in Maine.” 

“The house would be available throughout Christmas as well,” Castiel said softly. 

“Cassie, you’re not coming home for Christmas?” Balthazar said coaxingly. “You’ll freeze up there over Winter.” 

“Three months with possibility of extension,” Castiel said firmly. 

“Oh come on now, he’s like one guy, you don’t need to leave the country just to get away from his publicity trail. I mean he’s just as popular in Canada.” 

Castiel glared at Balthazar. 

“Don’t glower, it doesn’t work on me,” Balthazar said weakly. “And what about Hannah, she’ll be livid if you aren’t here over January, when your 12 months is up. She’s already talking about keeping you under medical watch on the anniversary of your claiming tattoo. You’re an alpha, you can’t just shrug off an unfulfilled claim, like a cold.” 

“I can go to another realtor,” Castiel said calmly. 

“Fine!” Balthazar threw his hands up into the air. “Get tenants, I’ll sort that out for you, and if the antique fireplace gets scratched don’t say I didn’t warn you!” 

“Thank you,” Castiel replied. “I will sign all the paperwork when they are ready.”

=*=*=*=*=*=

It was Samandriel who mentioned the calendar shortage first. 

“Can’t seem to buy it anywhere,” he put his head in his hands in despair. “My grandmother has been on my case that she wanted the new calendar for Christmas. And I wanted to win the grand prize.” 

“Oh yeah, who would you ask out for your charity date?” Donna asked, waggling his eyebrows. “Is it Inias? You know as a emergency medic he can stop your heart with a smile and then get it going again.” 

“Uh, yeah, Inias,” Samandriel looked at Castiel’s impassive face and blushed awkwardly. “I’ll keep that in mind. I mean the prize is a date with any one who appears in the calendar right? So I could uh choose you know, whoever.” 

“I heard Hannah is offering a five star meal in Boston and Benny will take you on a fishing trip. Mr Cain will provide you with an evening of sampling his private whiskey collection in the privacy of his basement,” Donna giggled. “Now that’s a prize worth winning.” 

“What’s your date offer Castiel?” Samandriel asked. 

“Officer Novak while we are on duty, please,” Castiel reminded him. “I had forgotten about my part in this. My date is a walk through the old town cemetery looking at historical monuments.” 

Donna smirked. “Wow, that beats everyone else’s.” 

Castiel shrugged. “It is one of my favourite places and has historical value.” 

“Some people might be really into that,” Samandriel echoed shyly. “If its a clear night you can see the stars real good from that location and it would be quiet as you stroll through the grounds alone. It’s a very romantic date if you think about it.”

Castiel frowned. “I hope whoever wins the calendar raffle does not select me then.” 

Samandriel and Donna exchanged a long look. 

“I’m gonna call Daphne and see if she knows where I can get my hands on some copies,” Samandriel said. 

Castiel went on with his duties. When he had returned a few hours later, Samandriel was sitting forlorn at the reception desk, his chin in his hands. 

“They are sold out, all of them, every copy from every outlet in town,” he said devastated. “I even reached out to the usual collectors on social media and no one has a copy but Daphne was sure boxes and boxes had arrived from the printers only last month. Do you have one Castiel - I mean Officer Novak, that you would be willing to sell, for my grandmother?”

“I did not receive a copy.” 

“But you’re in it, Mr June, on top of the police car,” Samandriel stumbled over the words. “I mean, so I hear, not like I begged Damian Dane to show me some proofs or something.” 

“How strange,” Castiel said reasonably. “Why would you want to see such a thing, there are two police cars in the parking lot and you also see me almost every day.” 

Samandriel sighed. “You don’t get it, its different.”

“If it makes you feel better, we can go eat lunch in the cemetery and discuss history,” Castiel offered. “I am willing to assist you as your colleague if you are really that interested in town history.” 

Samandriel rolled his eyes. “Yeah, not the same Novak. Not what I’m after.” 

“I can’t help you then, I am sorry,” Castiel said sincerely. 

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Samandriel clapped Castiel on the shoulder in a friendly gesture. “Some times people feel one way about someone and they just don’t feel it back. It’s alright.” 

“Sometimes,” Castiel swallowed and tried very hard to articulate his thoughts. “Sometimes people feel one way about someone and become convinced someone feels that way too and they consummate those feelings and then one of them leaves and the other is consumed by feelings of sadness, aloness.” 

Samandriel looked at Castiel, wincing in empathy. 

“I hear that kind of thing happens too,” Castiel said slowly, ponderously. “When does it end? These feelings?” 

“When uh when they get the other person back?” Samandriel said feebly. “Or when they forget?” 

Castiel frowned. “I’m afraid I have a very good memory.” 

=*=*=*=*=*=

The Bentley that drove into town was tastefully flashy. The man and woman who exited were extremely well dressed. She was wearing a pristine white Chanel pant suit set and he was dashing in sleek black Armani. Castiel recognised Crowley and Naomi and waved at them as they walked through the park, looking around a little disorientated. 

“We’re not here for pleasure, I’m afraid,” Naomi said when they met up with Castiel. 

“Is everything okay with Gabriel?” Castiel asked, a little concerned at the appearance of the publicist and manager in Angelfell. 

“Absolutely, we’re not here for your brother,” Naomi said. 

“We have business to discuss, with you,” Crowley looked around. “Is there somewhere we can sit and talk that isn’t apple pie tooth rottingly sweet?” 

Castiel brought them to Eileen’s bakery and Crowley took out a stack of papers. 

“I come on behalf of a confidential party, who wishes to remain anonymous in public, but you will know who I am talking about,” Crowley pushed the contract towards Castiel. “This is a confidentiality agreement, and the ensuing pages outline cohabitation arrangements. You can choose 6 months of the year in a location of your preference, presumably here, and he will have the other 6 months in which you will likely travel with him around the world. He has offered a 10% share of his asset pool, including royalties past, present and future for each year the relationship continues. Capping off at 50% of all assets, so an even split with 5 years should the agreement ever fail. You would be able to continue your career. If he falls pregnant to you then parental responsibility will be jointly held. All offsprings will be provided for via a scholarship fund.” 

“Sorry what is this?” Castiel interrupted Crowley. 

“Castiel, we know about your mating tattoo, our client, who we work for in the entertainment industry, is the other party to the tattoo. We have consulted with him and he has asked us to approach you with this contract.” 

“A contract for what?” Castiel was feeling uncharacteristic anger. They were still not using his name. 

“A contract for mating, a pre-mating contract,” Naomi explained. “Like a marriage but more profound.” 

“It’s the most generous of its kind I’ve ever come across,” Crowley drawled. “You’re a lucky man Castiel. Your mate wants you to say yes.” 

“Dean,” Naomi whispered. “Dean is making this offer.” 

“Dean is not here,” Castiel stated. 

“Of course not, he’s bound to his contractual obligations to play omega darling to Ketch. For the movie. He wasn’t supposed to find the alpha of his dream right before that whole Oscar push came to the fore. I mean he didn’t plan on falling for you,” Crowley said. “It was very inconvenient timing.” 

“I’m sorry to have been an inconvenience,” Castiel stood up. “Tell him the answer is no.”

“Castiel, I know Crowley and I are not the most romantic manner of asking someone to be their mate but really Dean is sticking his neck out giving you this contract right now. If Ketch’s people find out Dean would be sued for breach of contract so quickly and then the whole film will be in jeopardy.” 

“I don’t care,” Castiel said. “I don’t understand and I don’t care to. All I know is he is not here and I will not hide in the shadows while he plays potential mate to another alpha. It isn’t pride, it is dignity.” 

“I told you, we should talk to Sam again,” Naomi said hotly to Crowley. 

“Sam?” Castiel sighed. “Who gave this contract, was it Dean or Sam?” 

Crowley looked Castiel in the eyes and smiled, Naomi frowned. “Of course it was Dean.” 

“I can get his number from Jody Mills and ask,” Castiel said quietly, threateningly. 

“Okay, you called our bluff,” Crowley lifted his hands. “Dean doesn’t know we are here, but his brother authorised us to make you the offer. Dean’s miserable. He’s gotten himself tied up in a confidential fake relationship and he’s too embarrassed to tell you about it. But we know the deadline for the tattoo is January. We just want to make sure that you two dumbasses sort it out before then. Dean’s our biggest star, I mean your brother’s great but he brings in a fraction the royalties Dean does. We can’t risk his unhappiness. He’s talking about retirement ... for fuck’s sakes.” 

“If we can go back to Dean and surprise him with your acceptance to be legally mated to him, then he’ll be happy and as soon as the Oscars season is over, Dean can announce his breakup with Ketch and then boom hot country cop comes in to mend Dean’s broken heart.” 

Castiel stared at Crowley. Nothing about what they were proposing was not his own heart’s desire. It was like a magical deal where he could suddenly become Dean’s alpha again. It almost gave him hope but then Castiel looked around the empty bakery. 

“If Dean wanted me to do this, he would tell me in person. I do not believe he would consent to your proposal, well intended as Sam is in arranging things. I hope you enjoy your time in town.” 

It was difficult to leave the cafe and those binders of paper that offered the hope of being with Dean again. Castiel checked his cell phone, Balthazar was alerting him to the open house that afternoon. He needed to get home and vacate the dogs. 

At least Halo and Grace would enjoy the walk in the chilling wind, away from their home.


	17. Chapter 17

To Castiel's surprise there was still a minivan at the front of his house when he returned home with the dogs some half an hour after the inspection time had ended. A woman was walking up and down the driveway, pushing a pram over a tree root repeatedly. Distant robust crying sounded from the interiors of Castiel's residence. 

"I'm sorry, we'll be going soon," she looked up and then blinked. "Oh, Castiel?" 

Castiel remembered her pretty face and long blond hair, though it was now chopped into a practical bob that fell cascading over her face. It was Jessica, the omega who was mated to Dean's brother. 

"Is Sam inside?" Castiel asked with a resigned sigh. 

"Uh, yeah, huh, he didn't tell me you're the owner of this place," Jessica said with some surprise. "Damnit, I was really hoping we could buy it if we liked living here enough. Love the turn of the century witch aesthetics." 

"It is not for sale," Castiel's face softened into a smile. "But you are welcome to rent it. Though surely, Sam is just here to interfere is he not?" 

"Oh how much time do you think we have on our hands with the babies?" Jessica rolled her eyes. "We really are looking around Maine for a place to live. Sam suggested this town because well Dean gushed about it so much on skype the first day he was here. I mean he hasn't been able to even stay in the same room when we mention it now but anyhoo thought we'd come and check out some open houses in case we see anything we like. New York loft apartments really aren't very suited to little ones." 

"May I see?" Castiel approached the pram with cautious awe, he looked taken aback when he peered in and saw two little heads poking out of sunny yellow blankets. "Uh, there are two?" 

"Three," Jessica sighed. "You can hear her screaming. These are the boys, they're a little more docile." 

"Triplets, I'm sorry I thought you guys were here to intervene in Dean's personal life. I see I am mistaken, you must be very tired, I can only imagine the amount of work involved. Even if I do have two puppies of my own." 

"Wanna swap?" Jessica offered. "You keep rocking the pram please and I'll hold your dogs. I've heard about them, Dean misses them something fearsome even if he won't talk about it." 

So Castiel took over the pram and stared down at the miniature faces. They were not identical triplets. One was a little bigger than the other, with a head full of hair. The other had wispy blond curls just like Jessica. They waited outside for a few minutes until Sam came out with Balthazar. The young alpha was wearing a baby harness, the little one inside was still wailing, her face red with anger. 

"Castiel!" Sam called out. "Can you hold her for me? I think my eardrums are about to burst." 

Sam pulled out the baby from the harness, passed her to Castiel and rushed over to check on the other two in the pram. Then Grace whined and Sam and Jessica melted all over the puppies, leaving Castiel to contend with the wailing babe and the continuous pushing of the pram. The little girl quietened when Castiel held her in the crook of one arm. She opened tear sodden green eyes and looked at him unblinkingly. Castiel looked down at her upturned face, she was trying to fit her whole fist into her little mouth. She looked frustrated to tears and Castiel's heart oozed gooiely. 

"Marydea's been teething," Balthazar said. "Could barely even tell these guys about the vintage wine cellar over the commotion. So Sam and Jessica huh, you guys know each other? What are the chances you all know Dean and Cassie." 

Castiel gave Balthazar a baleful glare, the little baby girl in his arms frowned at Balthzar in solidarity with Castiel.

"You are meddling Bal," he said without much rancour. 

"Just doing my job, you wanted this place rented to a nice family."

Castiel shook his head and nudged the pram towards Jessica. "May I have a word with Sam?" 

She nodded and took the boys away with her, starting the laborious process of bundling them into their capsules. Marydea snuggled deeper into Castiel's chest and he decided not to rush her back to her parents. So she suckled on his knuckle, biting a little viciously from time to time and stayed resolutely satisfied. 

"I have declined the offer made via Naomi and Crowley," Castiel told Sam without fanfare. "I do not think he is in a position for such big decisions and if he were I would like him to make them with deliberation. Not as a remedial necessity."

"I'd wait for Dean to get his act together but between you and him I don't know which of you is more stubborn," Sam rolled his eyes. "What's so hard to figure out, it's all spelled out on your chests. And don't give me that freewill crap, freewill is the power to choose. Neither of you are committing to anything. It might feel like fate is gonna keep trying but I'm telling you before you know it a year will be up and you'd have lost our chance."

Castiel opened his mouth to object but Sam kept talking. 

"You know he came back from Central Park one morning, pale as a ghost and then blushing like a bride, reeking of pheromones and told me he'd just kissed some strange guy in a trench coat a park. He thought he was having a breakdown or something. Then the morning of you showing up at the convention, he was shouting your name and absolutely panicking about a claim tattoo appearing. He hasn't been looking for an alpha. Never really wanted to be mated. And then you come in and sweep him off his feet." 

"I was not aware of any mopping gestures," Castiel said blankly. 

"Well maybe its time you started," Sam poked Castiel in the chest. "Before this up and disappears. Now you wanna give me back my daughter?"

Castiel looked down at Marydea who was giving him a half smile that was a little crooked on her freckled face. Or perhaps she was letting out wind. 

"She is very sweet," Castiel said, staring down at her familiar features. 

"Dean didn't want Deanna," Sam pulled a face. "So we combined our mother's first name and his."

"She will be asked to spell that unconventional name many times," Castiel said. "It is unusual." 

"Says the guy called Castiel," Sam lifted an eyebrow. 

It was difficult detaching Marydea from his arms and Castiel felt a strong urge to stand by the minivan as Sam strapped the baby in safely. Castiel stood watching for a long time as the minivan and Balthazar's Bentley drove away. The house sounded cavernously empty even when the dogs ran inside ahead of him. He remembered the cluttered mess of diaper bags and snack containers and the exhausted faces of the parents. They had seemed relentlessly happy. 

=*=*=*=

Though there were several interested parties, Castiel could not finalise the rental of his house to anyone prior to the Vegas trip. Mostly because Balthazar mysteriously suffered two laptop mishaps, a photocopy machine implosion and finally just showed up in his car honking violently late on a Friday night and made dire threats of Gabriel gracing Las Vegas with his presence if Castiel did not get in the Bentley. Castiel fell asleep quickly as the car rolled over repetitive miles of sliding headlights and night darkened roads. The flight was uneventful except for the early morning dawn light that showed a hazy landscape of arid desert and a glittering jewel of a city. During their transfer from the airport to the hotel, Castiel counted palm trees and cactuses to pass the time. The hotel Balthazar booked was nice, as far as Castiel could tell, it had complimentary bottles of miniature shampoo, filled with ingredients like organic honey and raw sugar. There was a view of a glass pyramid out the window. The day passed in a haze of entering building and exiting rooms, a long lunch and an exhausted nap. 

Until at sunset, Balthazar looked over at Castiel and said direly "Having fun yet angel?"

Apparently the evening was still young, after a rather heavy dinner that Castiel haphazardly picked at. There was soon to be alcohol and dancing and Castiel quietly missed his dogs. 

=*=*=*=*=*=

Balthazar fell sidewards off the small podium, Castiel sighed with relief. Though he rarely drank, he seemed to have a super human tolerance for one specific drink. The White Russian is an intoxicatingly sweet cocktail of chocolate liquor, caramel vodka and milk. Stirred together with ice-cubes and served in a tumblr. Something about the chemistry of the sugar and vodka made Balthazar giggly, disinhibited and fortunately very very sleepy. It was about 4 am in the morning and Castiel caught Balthazar before he could fall on his face off the dance floor. Helped him into the elevator and dropped him off in his room. At least he could now go to bed. 

On his way to his own room Castiel saw a familiar face beam at him across the hall, it looked like Dean standing at the end of the corridor. Castiel blinked, he was certain he was not overly inebriated. For a brief second hope swelled in his chest, perhaps, for some fantastical explanation that was not yet forthcoming, Dean was here due to yet another twist of fate. Standing there with a bunch of roses in his hand and a ring box in the other, a vision of bygone chances in a Las Vegas hotel. 

The cardboard cut out of Dean fell over and bent when Castiel stumbled over it. He was, perhaps, not entirely immune to White Russians. 

He may have napped for a while at the feet of Dean's effigy. When he woke up there were corrogated creases in his cheek. Castiel felt a little less muddled though his room key was definitely no longer in his pocket. Well, technically, it was in his leather jacket pocket, which he left behind in Balthazar's room, so that he could put his favourite trenchcoat back on. Balthazar had forbid him from wearing it into the hotel nightclub, but with Balthazar snoring on his bed, Castiel had quickly slipped it on before he made a hasty dash for his own room. Which he now could no longer get into, because he forgot about the key in the leather jacket pocket. He would have to wait until Balthazar was awake, Castiel sent him a text message then wondered where someone could go at 6 in the morning in Las Vegas.

Though it was early, there were quite a few people standing around in the lobby. Some of them had cameras, there were nicely dressed people with important looking passes and name tags. Though everyone looked somewhat unhappy to be awake and were all determined to get into the breakfast room. Castiel followed them hopefully and quickly found himself in the line for a breakfast buffet. He felt extremely hungry and the sight of the mountains of fruit and pastries lifted his spirits. He loaded up a plate, placed it on a table, then went to fill a second plate with the hot food. Sausages, bacon, scrambled eggs, hash browns and a large frothy cappuccino with a heavy dusting of cocoa on top. As he ate, more people poured into the dining room, loading up plates and talking excitedly about their day. They seemed to be there for some work function which they were not entirely taking seriously. A group of scruffy looking guys came and parked themselves around Castiel's table. 

"Hey buddy, can we sit with you?" Said a guy in a trucker hat as he dumped a load of heavy and professional looking equipment by his feet. "Don't mind the camera. And if you see a skinny dude with a Texas TV shirt can you tell him Ash has gone to the john's?" 

"Who is Ash?" Castiel asked. 

"I am," Ash said pointing at himself, then giving Castiel a quick slap on the shoulders, he winked. 

"And who is John?" 

Ash laughed. "Oh, you're a crack up. Good one." 

Then he disappeared in the direction of the bathroom. 

Castiel blinked at the stuff left at the table but shrugged and decided that he would have another cup of coffee and perhaps a chia pot. A giant plate loaded with streaky bacon and eggs fried sunny side up appeared at his elbow, together with a bottle of hot sauce. A man plopped down and began devouring the entire feast. It took him a minute to get halfway through about a pound of crispy bacon before he chewed thoughtfully and asked Castiel where Ash had gone. 

"To see someone named John," Castiel replied, deciding to attempt a blueberry danish in lieu of a chia pot, which had tasted very much of nothing. 

"Must be the reporter from Skyrise Entertainment," the guy said then grinned at Castiel. "Is that Chia? Man I gotta get some, they are are like juicy slippery seeds of pure protein goodness. Just heaven over grapefruit compote. You mind keeping an eye out for the mic and sound equip? Thanks man. I'm Garth by the way."

Castiel was on his third and presumably last cup of coffee when both Ash and Garth finally were sitting at the table together eating the rest of their complimentary buffet food. 

"Almost makes it worth driving across states for entertainment news," Garth rubbed his stomach, groaning. "Oh man I am almost ready to listen to the inane questions and fake laughs."

"I can't believe how long yesterday's interview with that British dude took, all those touch ups and fussing about getting his ‘best angle’ and the reporter was so pissed off she called in sick this morning. So now we gotta meet up with the new reporter and he or she hasn't shown up yet. My station manager's gonna kill me if I don't file the material to the editor tonight. She's going on her honeymoon, just waiting for this breaking interview to be done before she heads off for the tropical islands."

"Aw shit," Garth looked at his cell phone. "Car trouble, the interviewer's totally stuck, we're gonna miss our timeslot!"

Ash looked over at Castiel with a hopeful smile. "Hey buddy, you from a station?" 

"I am a guest at this hotel."

"Hey you wanna earn a few quick bucks by doing us a small favour?"

"I am an off duty police officer, I hope the favour you are asking for is completely legal," Castiel said gravely. "I am on vacation."

"All the more reason for you to help us, we're citizens in need of urgent assistance. Come on."

Perhaps it was all the coffee, or the prospect of sitting in front of Balthazar's door until he woke up, or the idea of another day of looking  happy and evincing enjoyment on The Strip that pushed Castiel to his feet. 

"So how are you with asking questions?" Garth said tentatively. 

"I interrogate witnesses sometimes, although the last one was a cat," Castiel gave him a quick smile. "There was report of some pie theft from an open window and the only suspect I could find at the scene was of the feline persuasion. Mr Donatello is a frequent complainant I'm afraid."

Ash shook his head. "Didn't understand that, but you just gotta ask, you know, open questions. How was your last project. What would you like people to enjoy about it? That kind of thing. Don’t worry the guy today’s professional and by all accounts pretty nice." 

Castiel nodded, walking with the two hurried camera and sound guys into another part of the hotel. There were a lot of people milling around. More posters, cardboard sets and life size cut outs. Castiel frowned at yet another full sized Dean, this time wearing a spacesuit with a tentacled monster wrapped around his neck. The shock of seeing Charlie standing at the doorway checking passes had Castiel stumbling into yet another life sized Dean, this one was standing on a sunset beach, naked from the torso up and had a tail from the waist down. Castiel put his boot through the glittering scales and scratched a dusky nipple as he fumbled to get up off the floor. Charlie extended a helping hand and grinned at him maniacally. 

"Oh hey, if it isn't the famous reporter, Mr uh, um, Mr Jimmy Emmanuel," she read hastily from the handful of passes in her hand. "Good luck with your interview." 

She threw the pass over his neck and shoved him and the crew into the room. It was much quieter in there, the surroundings were beautiful and filled with white roses and lush green leaved magnolias. A comfortable couch was positioned in front of a window with views of distant deserts and the sparkling rooftops of the city. There were lights set up to artfully illuminate the lone man sitting on the couch in a crisp white shirt, pressed fitted pants and leather brogues. He stood up with softly parted lips as he saw them come in, hand extended and friendly smile ready. 

"Hello, I'm Dean Winchester," he said as he shook hands with Garth and Ash. 

"Hello Dean," Castiel said as Dean froze with their hands clasped. "I'm Jimmy Emmanuel, apparently."


	18. Chapter 18

Dean looked flustered as he settled down into the couch with the perfect lighting, the morning sunlight highlighting the auburn in his hair and making his freckles burn rose peach on his skin. He was looking at Castiel with his eyes wide, the irises eerily green due to the ring lights positioned behind the interviewer's chair, haloing Castiel's head. 

"And what publication are you from, Mr Emmanuel?" Dean let out a breath. 

Castiel took out his notebook, thankful he had packed it into the inner pocket of his trench coat with his ballpoint pen out of habit. This gave him half a minute to gather his thoughts. 

"Skyrise Entertainment, which publishes magazines," Castiel said. "Special interest magazines. You wouldn't have heard of us."

"Oh?" Dean looked at Castiel, Garth nudged the drop mic a little closer in to catch Dean's cocky whispered: "Try me."

"Police and first responders magazine?" Castiel swallowed. 

"Oh yeah, what's it called?" 

"Cops And Crime," Castiel blurted out. 

"That get a lot of readers does it?" Dean smiled, his eyelashes dipping as he watched Castiel glare at him. "Funny having you guys send an interviewer to a Romantic Comedy movie." 

"Oh its not all we publish," Castiel lied creatively, thankful for his undercover training. "We have another sister publication, Knots and Crosses. Which is about uh mating and cross bred puppies. Which we affectionately refer to as rainbow puppies, you never know what you get."

"A magazine dedicated to all things mating and rainbows and puppies?" Dean repeated incredulously, his eyes darting to Garth and Ash. "That's the magazine I'm being interviewed for?"

Garth shrugged and Ash gave Dean a thumbsup and spared a smirk at Castiel. 

"So how can I help you?" Dean opened his hands expressively. "Would you like me to talk about dogs?"

"How about you tell us about your alpha?" Castiel asked gravely. "Mr Ketch is it? How is that going?"

"Well, really good, amazing," Dean said quickly. "He's everything I want in an alpha. Got another question for me, Jimmy?"

Castiel tilted his head. "That's nice to hear Mr Winchester. Can you tell me what that is?" 

"What what is?" Dean stuttered. 

"What is everything you want in an alpha?" Castiel asked, raising his pen to his mouth, chewing on the end absentmindedly. 

Dean swallowed. He looked surprised by the question. 

"Uh, loving, my alpha is very accepting of my career choices and he is a brave and beautiful man," Dean said slowly, the words pouring out of him. "He's not like anyone else I've ever met, kind of determined and devastatingly handsome. He cares about everyone in his community and gives so much of himself to others. Just your average American but kind of extraordinary at the same time, you know."

Castiel blinked at Dean. "I thought he was British." 

"I uh forgot about that," Dean cleared his throat. "Next question please." 

"How did you know he was the right alpha for you?" 

Garth was busy zooming the camera in on Dean, the little monitor tucked out of sight behind a velvet stool showed a close up of Dean's blushing face. 

"There's the scent of course and the fact that I can't stop thinking about him," Dean said naturally then as if remembering himself, he shrugged. "I think if you can imagine making a home with someone, belonging somewhere with them, then you know." 

Castiel stared at Dean lost in his words. The silence filled the room. He found himself leaning in, his knees almost touching Dean's. Dean was breathing a little shallow, his mouth open and his lips looked plump and inviting. 

"Did, did you want me to say more?" Dean asked after a whole minute's silence. 

Garth was hunched over the camera like a nature photographer ready to capture some rare creature in a secret mating ritual. 

"You are an omega," Castiel stated. 

"Yeah, I am," Dean nodded. "It's something I've kept to myself but lately I find I want to express it openly." 

"What prompted that?"

"Meeting my alpha, I know it sounds cliched but that's what it was," Dean licked his lips. "Like it doesn't just involve me anymore, I want him to be able to be proud of being my alpha." 

"Arthur Ketch?" Castiel lifted his eyebrows. "All this is for Arthur Ketch?"

Dean opened his mouth but his head was already shaking. He tried again but the sound that came out was nothing like a 'yes'. 

"Cas..." Dean whispered. 

Castiel blinked rapidly. 

"Castiel," Dean said louder, hands trembling slightly. "His name is Castiel Novak." 

Then Dean tugged at his shirt collar and shyly undid several buttons until the name was on display. Garth and Ash were recording the moment frantically.

Castiel dropped his pen, but that was not a problem because his hand was busy tracing his own name on Dean's chest. The ink shifting and glimmering under the pressure of his fingers, Dean's eyes fluttered closed as he sighed long and soft at Castiel's touch. Castiel wondered if Dean's skin there tasted as good as he remembered. 

"Gotta wind this up guys," Charlie's voice was like thunder in the heavy panting quiet of the room. Castiel had not been aware she had entered the room. 

Garth cleared his throat and Ash outright gave an exasperated groan. Dean's eyes snapped open, locked on Castiel's in a wild panic and there was enough fear and uncertainty there to make Castiel snatch his hand back. Castiel's gaze slid down to Dean's lap where his erection was clearly outlined and straining against the narrow inseam of his designer pants. Castiel put his back directly in the line of the camera and stood up. He grabbed Dean's hand and shook it, his fingers lingered over Dean's knuckles longingly despite his best efforts. 

"Thank you for this interview, it was most revealing," it was Castiel's turn to stumble over his words, his eyes kept going back to Dean's penis of their own accord. He remembered the shape and heft and stretch of it all too well. 

"Uh yes, thank you, thank you very much for your time," Dean sounded apologetic. "And I'm sorry it was such a long wait. I should have been quicker."

"You have nothing to apologise for," Castiel looked at Dean warmly. "I have all the answers I need and more. I hope your alpha treasures you."

Dean surged forward. 

"Holy shit they're gonna kiss," Garth gasped out loud, earning an annoyed kick from Ash. Not that it mattered, Castiel could only see Dean in that room, could smell him and hear the beating of his heart. 

Dean grabbed Castiel by the shoulders and Castiel grabbed Dean by the shoulders. There was a lot of very intense shoulder grabbing and if shoulders were erogenous zones, they were going to rub them until one of them gave in and climaxed. It was Dean who came to his senses first. His hand loosened and he patted Castiel on the shoulder, palm sliding off the well worn beige warmth of his chest. An all too light swipe over Castiel's heart. Almost imperceptible. But Castiel shuddered all the same. 

"Let's get the cameras out heh," Charlie said cheerfully. "Unless you really wanna sell out Knots and Crosses." 

Castiel nodded and headed out the door, Dean was still staring at him the one time he chanced a glance back. 

The door closed with quiet finality, Charlie mouthing at him "Good job" or something like that. 

"Whew, nice work man," Ash gave Castiel a fist in the bicep. "Talk about chemistry." 

"I thought you were his alpha for a second there," Ash laughed out loud. "How about that, Dean Winchester is a claimed man. That's headliner news." 

"We better get this story filed before the studio catches wind and demand we delete it," Garth said. "Ketch's people have been telling everyone some crock romance story about him and Dean." 

"He's just trying to grab a slice of the American pie," Ash rolled his eyes. "I heard he's been trying to start that story for years and that's why Winchester's been so secretive and has only been picking alpha roles. They say that Ketch's studio had Winchester tied into some contract about a mating publicity exclusive a decade ago, back when Dean was still modelling for Target." 

"Will his admission of being claimed be damaging to Dean's career?" Castiel asked. 

Ash shrugged. "He said what he said, he's a big enough star to deal with it."

"If Charlie doesn't want it out then it won't get out, this camera here will probably just spontaneously self-combust," Garth laughed. "You worried for Dean Winchester?"

"Maybe he's worried for Castiel Novak," Ash winked as if he knew more than he let on. "That poor guy's gonna be world famous over night." 

"It'd be worth it for Dean," Castiel said resolutely. 

"Yeah, omega like that, I'm a beta, I can't even imagine," Garth exclaimed. "Have you seen how green his eyes are? Like winsome ponds and emerald lakes and green spinach."

"Silverbeet?" Ash asked. "Or collared greens?" 

"That's more like muted green," Garth mused. "More fresh grass or frozen peas." 

The two crew members walked away discussing vegetables in great detail. Castiel smiled, spared one more look at the closed door and walked towards the elevators. His hand was still tingling from that moment on Dean's skin. The elevator doors opened and it was Arthur Ketch who came out, smelling boozier than Castiel, black suit jacket flaring out behind him. Not even sparing Castiel a second look. 

"Open up!" He banged on Dean's door. 

Castiel could hear a muffled "Go away, Ketch" from Dean. He turned and followed Ketch, watching from a distance. 

"You're supposed to say we're engaged!" Ketch yelled, ripping his sunglasses from his face. "Tell them we're expecting pups! What's all this bullshit about calling it all off?" 

"Fuck off Arthur," Dean answered. "If I open this door, Charlie's gonna come out and you'll be sorry." 

Ketch shrunk back but his furious face reassembled into a grimace. "I got my own people too and I'm not scared of your omega bodyguard, omega! Who do you think you are, you ungrateful prat, we had a deal." 

Castiel walked calmly up to Ketch, grabbed him by the throat and clamped down hard over his windpipe with his thumb.  There was not even a chance for a whimper. 

"That is quite enough," Castiel said in a low whisper. 

Ketch's wide eyes told Castiel that he had at last recollected who he was. 

"Now I'm going to ease up and you're going to go away, like he asked," Castiel said reasonably. Ketch nodded quickly, so Castiel let him go. 

"Well if it isn't the bitch Dean left in heat," Ketch rasped. 

There are many ways in which facial bones could be broken and Castiel was familiar with most of them from his combat training. He counted through them twice before speaking. 

"I'll be Dean's bitch if he wants, gladly. I'll be his alpha if he asks. I'll be whatever he needs," Castiel said. "But he does not need you and nor will he ever ask for you." 

Ketch's face twitched, contorting his handsome jawline into something pitifully gruesome. 

"He might have once thought you held power over him, but he knows now that he is free," Castiel said. "And that is all I want for him. But I must thank you before I leave, for clearing up one thing during this encounter. I know now you are no threat to my claim. You are utterly unworthy." 

The actor spat on the ground, rolling up his shirtsleeves. "Let's sort this out alpha to alpha."

Castiel rolled his eyes. "I'm not an animal Mr Ketch and neither are you."

Ketch was still carrying on by the time the elevator arrived. Castiel could just see Charlie reappearing and dealing out a restraining wrist twist and shift to him as the elevator doors closed. He pressed his back into the cool mirrored wall panels, closing his eyes. Dean had announced Castiel's claim to the world. Dean was free. Ketch was no obstacle now. Castiel's whole body screamed at him to go back to Dean's floor, he imagined running into Dean's room to kiss him till they were both stupid and satisfied. It would take some time. 

And then what? Castiel wondered. Would Dean come and live with him in Angelfell? Would he follow Dean to Hollywood? Will they hold each other's shoulders through sunsets and kiss every morning as the sun rose? Dean had said that he could imagine being with his alpha, living a whole life with him. But Castiel could not imagine Dean doing anything less than he was doing now. Nor could he see himself in Dean's world. In this jungle of high rise hotels and watchful eyes. It wasn't like Sam and Jessica, Dean would hate driving a minivan. 

While he was glad Dean was no longer hiding the claim. While he did feel Dean might say yes if he asked. Castiel was not yet ready to ask the question. 

The question was, a claim was forever, but what would forever look like? 

And Castiel kept asking himself that, all the way home to Angelfell.


	19. Chapter 19

Daphne had left several messages regarding the parcel for him to pick up at the post office but somehow it kept slipping Castiel’s mind. September was the beginning of the autumn and that was peak tourist season in Angelfell. From all over people came to visit the picturesque town, the mountains were full of hikers, the orchards picked clean of apples, Rowena’s bed and breakfast was packed to the rafters and Castiel’s days were filled with traffic infringements. His house was still haphazardly on-show on the odd weekend, though Castiel had entirely given up on enquiring about whether Balthazar had found someone to rent it. He figured that when the time came and when he had left town, Bal would ensure it was rented but for now his best friend was dragging his feet in the hopes that Castiel might hang around. The problem was of course that though Castiel had spent his whole life in Angelfell, now wherever he looked, he was reminded of the brief few days Dean had been around. 

The bakery was no longer a place of rich hot chocolates and decadent pastries, the rotating pie display taunted at Castiel. The park was where Dean and he had walked, Dean staring at the advancing ducks as if they would charge. The pier was out, too many flashes of sunny days and ice cream dates. All these places which had been utterly perfect before, were now missing something, someone. Sometimes, in spite of himself, Castiel looked under the old oak tree hoping for a glimpse of a vintage black Impala. He was pining enough to fill the autumn forests with lumber, but he couldn’t help it. He had unsubscribed from Netflix, refused to turn on his television, started ordering his groceries online to avoid the magazines at the checkouts. It was pathological and weakness, Castiel knew, but on the increasingly cold nights, he huddled in front of the fire and cuddled the dogs, while missing Dean with longing more bitter than the coming winter. 

It was almost Halloween when Daphne turned up on his doorstep, hammering on the metal gates, a slim envelope tucked under her arm. 

“So Donna said you called in sick, again,” she began, shoving her way inside, shivering as the cold wind was shut outside the heavy wooden front door. 

“It’s nothing, just a head cold,” Castiel offered her a cup of tea. “Can’t seem to shake it off.” 

“All your houseplants are dead too,” Daphne looked around. “And the dogs are hankering for a walk.” 

Castiel shrugged. “Yea, I’ve never seen cactus die of thirst before.” 

“Tell you what, why don’t you look at this parcel here, and I’ll take the puppies out for a quick run. I’m off the clock anyway, thought I’d drop this special consignment to you personally, since you haven’t come to pick it up yourself.” 

Castiel thanked Daphne and when she bustled the dogs out, he opened the envelope and looked at the item inside. It was a calendar, the Emergency Workers Charity Calendar to be precise, the only copy Castiel had seen around town. When Daphne returned, he showed it to her quizzically. 

“Why is this the only copy I’ve seen? Do you have one?” 

Daphne looked at the calendar with round eyes. “Oh, that’s where its gone.” 

She stroked the pages, flicking through them enthusiastically. “Wow, that Damian Dane sure is a great photographer. You look amazing, look at your eyes in this photo, hot blue. You know this is the only copy don’t you? Someone brought up every single copy from Balthazar. Wrote out a huge cheque for the local hospital. Said they would donate the calendars after the prize raffle.”

“Why would they do that?” Castiel asked. 

“Well, gee, I wonder, could it be because everyone who has a copy of the calendar goes into the draw to win a date with one of the Emergency Workers of their choice? Do you see how one buyer means one owner, which means a certain chance in winning said date?” 

“But there isn’t just one owner of the calendars,” Castiel looked down at the glossy pages. “I have one too now.” 

“So they want you to have a choice,” Daphne smiled, her grin widening. “You could give it to me, or to whoever you want to win, or keep it yourself. If you don’t want to go on a date with whoever bought the rest of the calendars.” 

Castiel looked at her, uncertain. 

She proffered her hand. “What will it be Castiel?” 

Castiel slid the calendar back into the envelope. He closed it. Then he took out the pen that was forever sitting inside his inner coat pocket and scrolled on the envelope. Daphne took the package back. 

“Alright Castiel, return to sender it is,” she winked. “Good luck.” 

=*=*=*=

Castiel stood just outside the old church, wondering if he should have brought the dogs with him. If he was right about who had purchased the calendars, Halo and Grace would be happy for a reunion. If he was wrong, Castiel sighed, he was about to spend a long cold evening with a random stranger who really had a thing for Angelfell’s emergency workers or turn-of-the-century town history. The early evening was already dark, Castiel stood under the street lamp and waited, his breath hitching when two bright headlights appeared in the distance. As they neared, he could tell that it was definitely a black car and when it finally pulled along and parked smoothly, Castiel held his breath when Dean got out. 

Dean was wearing jeans and a t-shirt and a hand knitted red jumper that was both garish and fascinating. Castiel rushed up to him, their breath clouding up in the dewy evening air. 

“Heya Cas,” Dean said, his face aglow in the lamplight. Dean looked a little tired, his bow legs somewhat wobbly as he came sauntering up the street. 

“Hello Dean,” Castiel replied and darted his hand to guide Dean off the road and onto the footpath. Dean’s arm was warm. “Have you been driving for long?” 

“Just a few hours,” Dean said, standing there staring at Castiel, as if he could drink him up with his eyes. 

“I hope you followed all the traffic rules and took sufficient rest breaks,” Castiel said. 

Dean smiled. “What you gonna do officer, arrest me?” 

“It is very dangerous to drive while fatigued,” Castiel said mildly. “I would need to at least reprimand you.” 

Dean bumped his shoulder into Castiel’s. “Can you reprimand me while we walk? Freezing here.” 

Castiel laughed, Dean was a little bit magical. Though they had not seen each other for months and their summer romance had left a stinging hole in Castiel’s heart, having Dean beside him somehow made all of those feelings of hollowness disappear. As if Castiel had never felt incomplete, as if this was how things were always meant to be. The two of them standing in the dark, huddled beneath incandescent light, staring at each other’s faces. 

“Watch out for the headstones,” Castiel said quietly, gesturing Dean to enter the graveyard ahead of him. 

They walked slowly and Castiel rattled off names and histories while Dean pointed at random headstones and mispronounced family names. He seemed genuinely interested in Castiel’s quiet narration, interjecting with his opinions when he felt strongly about some ancestor or another’s actions. 

“What’s in there?” Dean pointed to the locked metal gates, beyond which was the sound of trickling water and the smell of flowers. 

“That’s The Angel’s Garden,” Castiel said. “Only the priest has a key.” 

“Oh, I’m not asking Damian Dane for anything,” Dean snorted. “He’ll want me on my knees in exchange for the smallest favour. He’s gotta be a mafia informant in hiding or something, those photos he took of you are way too sexy for a priest.” 

Castiel shrugged. “There is another way in.” 

With Dean watching with anticipatory eyes, Castiel wrapped his hands around the spikes at the top of the gate and pulled himself up, tangling his leg through some ornamental scrolls and finally dropping down on the other side with a quiet ‘gosh-darn-it’ as his pant pocket caught and ripped on the spires. He opened the gate from the other side and Dean walked through laughing as Castiel pulled up his trench coat and looked at the hole in his pants with dismay. 

“Who says ‘gosh-darn-it’ anymore?” Dean teased. “It’s so ... A/V club.” 

“Gosh-damn-it,” Castiel cursed again as he poked his finger into the hole. He could feel the cold air brushing past his balls. He had dressed in a rush, having taken too long to decide on what to wear, and in his haste he had decided to go commando under his jeans. 

“Alright point dexter, you know I can’t resist how cute you are when you nerd out,” Dean peeled his eyes away from Castiel’s hole and looked around. “What is this place?” 

“A private garden for the church. An abbot made it hundreds of years ago, an ancestor of mine actually,” Castiel shrugged. “His name was James Novak, this was before there was even a town here. The church was built to service the lumber yards and the town was founded after James said he saw an angel in this exact location and decided to stay. He spent his life building the town, actually left the church and became town sheriff later in life.”

Dean walked up to the statue standing in the centre of the garden. It was made of aged marble, shaped into a figure holding a broken sword, wings fluttering out as if the angel was standing before a storm. From the other hand of the angel a stream of water poured into a waiting vessel, the fountain flowed perpetually. 

“What’s with the water feature?” 

“This whole place harkens back to the angel lore,” Castiel explained. “It was a sad angel you see, according to James Novak, the angel was alone in the world, having fallen from the heavens and unable to return. He was cast out for falling in love with humanity. His tears made the waterfall and Lake Tear of course and all his weeping made the land fertile. The story is the angel will keep weeping until he finds the love he lost in heaven on earth. If he doesn’t find it his tears will eventually drown the world.” 

“Desperate, dateless and divine, huh,” Dean shrugged awkwardly. “Real cheerful story.” 

“James was an interesting man,” Castiel raised his eyebrows. “Thought he could hear angels in his head. The town library keeps his journals, they make for exciting reading. Good town builder though and the vegetable soup recipe he left behind really is delicious.” 

“Makes sense that you’d have an extraordinary ancestor,” Dean whispered. 

Castiel took Dean around the garden, which was full of scented white flowers. The shrub roses were a little sparse given the early frost, but there was one remaining bud, Dean leaned down and inhaled the sweet scent. 

“I think James was in love with the angel,” Castiel said in a very low voice. “There are other journals, not for public consumption. He talked about a cowboy, with green eyes, who robbed his coach. He called him the crossroads angel in his diaries. I think that’s why he became a sheriff to look for him. I think he found him.” 

Dean gave Castiel a startled look. 

“See here, James’ wife is buried,” Castiel showed Dean a lovely grand headstone beneath an aged weeping wisteria. “She was a widow and James married her so that her daughter, my great-great-great-great-grandmother would inherit his lands and name. She was already pregnant when they met. She died during child birth. Or maybe she moved on. James never married again. He was happy to be a widower, just as he had been happy being a man of the church without the obligation to have a spouse. And here is the angel.” 

Castiel showed Dean the gravestone hidden beneath a dense rose bush of indiscernible age. It was a joint headstone, on one side was clearly written ‘James Novak’ with date of birth and death and on the other half only the words ‘Beloved Angel’. 

“One account is that the cowboy died in a gun fight,” Castiel said, a wry smile on his lips. “But another story is that James and his business partner William Campbell grew old and frail together and spent many happy years in this town. William Campbell never married either and no one seems to be able to find any record of his existence prior to his coming to Angelfell.” 

Dean stared down at the headstone, he shivered when a cold wind blew through the branches of the rose bush. Castiel felt cold too, the evening seeping into his bones. 

“Here,” Dean shrugged off his garish jumper and draped it over Castiel’s shoulders. 

Castiel opened his trench coat and pulled Dean close against him. 

“Let’s go somewhere warmer.” 

They held each other as they exited the cemetery, climbing into the Impala. Dean put the key in the ignition and started the car, turning the heater up as high as it would go but keeping the lights off to conserve the battery. The engine of the Impala rumbled and Castiel placed his cold fingers in front of the air vent, not feeling much warmer till Dean grabbed hold of his hands and huffed on them. 

“How’s that?” Dean asked, still trembling himself. 

“You’re cold too,” Castiel pointed out. 

“What?” Dean raised an eyebrow. “Not feeling cold at all.” 

Indeed the colour was high in his cheekbones. Dean’s face was pink and his chest, where the pads of Castiel’s fingers baked, was indeed hot. 

“You keep shaking,” Castiel said. 

“Yeah, that’s not cold,” Dean said brokenly. “That’s just you, wanting you.” 

So Castiel dug his fingers into Dean’s flesh, pulling him forward and pressing their mouths together. Dean flowed over him like a burning wave, pressing him into the long length of the front seats, the Impala vibrating along with Castiel’s body under Dean’s touch. 

Everywhere Dean touched him, Castiel was on fire. He felt, in the rumbling darkness, the slip of Dean’s fingers through the hole in his pants, the gentle nudging against his private flesh. Castiel parted his legs, dropping one to the ground and lifting the other to hook over the headrest, his shoes pushed off his feet, his jeans encasing him too tightly while Dean pried and pierced and pricked with his hand. There was cherry lube in the globe box, the bottle exactly where Castiel left it after its last use. The lid still not twisted on properly, as if it had sat waiting for months for Castiel to rediscover his hasty error. 

“No Cas, don’t need that,” Dean murmured hot and wet in his ear. “Just turn around for me babe, lie on your stomach, please Cas.” 

Then Castiel discovered why Dean didn’t need the cherry flavoured lubricant because his tongue was already slippery with saliva and there seemed more and more of it as Dean tasted and savoured. Castiel lay there, blindsided by all that pleasure concentrated and delivered via that small tear in his pants and that one small hole through which waves of delight made him weep. After he had come, messily and loudly into his jeans, Dean sat on his lap, his arms around Castiel’s neck and kissed him for what felt like forever. 

Then Dean finally let Castiel take Dean’s erection out of his open fly and coat him with sweet cherry and suck it all off again. And when Dean drove them back to Castiel’s house, the dogs whimpering from the other side of the door and they were still both warm and dopey with smiles and satiation, it was time to say goodbye. 

“Thank you, Cas,” Dean said, his hand lingering on Castiel’s cheek, his lips pink and plump from all the kissing. “That was a ... a very enjoyable date.” 

“I hope the prize was worth buying up 300 calendars,” Castiel smiled demurely, suddenly shy with his wet underwear and warm fluttering chest. 

“It’d be worth buying 3,000,” Dean assured him. “I could wall paper an entire room with that picture of you perched on top of your police cruiser, with that ‘come fuck me’ look in your eyes.” 

“It could be a ‘fuck you’ look too,” Castiel blushed, but he flicked his eyes to meet Dean’s. Dean groaned and leaned his head back. 

“You’re killing me Cas,” Dean gasped. “I could come into heat just thinking about being knotted by you.” 

Castiel waited. “But?” 

“But I gotta go,” Dean sighed. “This was supposed to be me coming to apologise to you about running out on you with Ketch. I got caught by surprise when he showed up. I didn’t explain things very well. This was me buying my way back into your good graces ...” 

Castiel touched his hand to Dean’s cheek, turning his head gently to lock eyes. 

“Dean, you never have to buy anything form me,” Castiel said. “Not grace, or forgiveness and definitely not my love. I have only love for you and I give it to you freely.” 

Dean gulped. “You’re so sweet Cas, you are the sweetest, sweet man, sweet alpha, sweet heart.” 

So Castiel kissed Dean again because he was gushing like a broken record and his face was doing that trembly lipped thing again like it was physically hurting him to be wanting Castiel so much. Then to save Dean the turmoil, Castiel got out of the car of his own accord. Dean leaned over and rolled down the windows and then they were kissing again through the open window. Dean shivering from the sensation or the scent or the cold air pouring into the car via the open window. 

“Get inside, you’ll be cold,” Dean said, pulling away with wide eyes. “I’ll see you soon sweet heart, soon as I can.” 

Castiel nodded and Dean shook his head and smiled and mouthed “Go inside, please.” 

“Here,” Castiel tried to take off the red jumper Dean kept draping over him. 

“Keep it on,” Dean commanded. “Go inside, wave at me with the dogs. I can’t come in, if I come in I’ll never leave.” 

So Castiel did exactly what Dean asked. 

As he waved through the window, Halo and Grace clambering over each other, he wondered whether Dean never leaving would be such a bad thing.


	20. Chapter 20

True to his word, Dean was back in town by All Hallows Eve, driving his flash car down the main street, his window wound down all the way as he rubber necked at the gorgeous fall shop displays. Pretty much every store front was decorated with pumpkins and brooms and lit up Jack O'Lanterns and in the case of Eileen's bakery a huge marshmallow meringue pie with caramelised tips and swirling crunchy rosettes shaped into rosebuds and bright orange fire leaves of red liquorice dusted in gold. When Dean came rushing into the police station, Castiel was just about to rush out, a thick marine blue puffer worn awkwardly over his trenchcoat and a knitted hat with earflaps on his head. Castiel was flipping the sign on the door to 'Angelfell Police Station CLOSED, call 911 for emergencies'. Samandriel excused himself to Dean quickly before running out onto the road to put snow chains on the cruiser. 

"There's inclement weather coming," Castiel said to Dean. "There are tourists stranded on the hiking trails, we have to go." 

Dean nodded at Castiel. "Sorry to show up unannounced. Anything I can do to help?" 

Castiel thought about it for a second, then tossed Dean his house keys. "Can you walk the dogs and make sure they are inside if I get home late?"

Dean nodded and maybe Castiel imagined the muttered 'sure honey' as Dean grinned crookedly and let him brush past. The puffer made a woosh sound just as Castiel's heart did a little somersault in his chest when he smelled the meringue on Dean's warm breath. He had obviously pulled over and stopped for a slice of pie at Eileen's. 

=*=*=*=

It was way past 9 pm when Castiel finally got home, the trails had been closed down by rangers before sunset but Castiel spent the evening walking the mountains with Samandriel and Donna to move on all the hikers. Above the snow line, it was already below freezing and the roads out of town were closing down for the forecast snowstorm. When he pulled up, he didn't see Dean's car. The warm toasty feeling in his chest went away, until his headlights caught sight of a hulking mass huddled under a custom cover. Dean had protected his car with a canopy. Past the trees that crowded the front garden, he could see the lights were on in the back of the den. There was the smell of cinnamon logs burning and the excited greeting of the dogs. Dean was bent over the stovetop when Castiel entered, brewing a thick pot of cocoa and shamelessly emptying a carton of double cream into the concoction. 

"I wasn't sure if you had eaten but there's lasagna in the oven," Dean offered and Castiel gladly accepted a huge slice, served in a bowl because it was so gooey with melted cheese and savoury tomato sauce. 

It was apparent that Dean had spent the afternoon cooking, the fridge was overflowing with brand new glass containers filled with assortments of food. Dean looked sheepish when Castiel gazed at the variety of coloured boxes and bowls and raised his eyebrows. 

"I like to cook," Dean licked his lips nervously. "And since I can't hang around here for more than a few hours I figured it won't make Sam mad if I did some of my best dishes and left them behind. You can give it away if you don't want to eat it. Like, whatever man, I don't mind." 

Castiel looked at Dean with slow blinking eyes. 

"It's not an omega thing or whatnot, like, not trying for a mating ring or anything," Dean stammered on. "I got no one to impress but it was so nice here in the kitchen and well I bumped into Hannah in the grocery store and she recommended a whole bunch of local produce to me and complained about how you're taking vitamins when there's fresh food available. I mean, Daphne emailed Charlie and passed on the fact that you've had two colds this winter and well they were out of organic chicken but you just wait till next time I come down, probably around thanks giving, I could make you a chicken wonton soup so good that you'll weep with joy ..." 

Dean didn't seem able to stop talking, rushing over the words, blushing red and running out of air in his anxiousness. 

"Dean, shush," Castiel said, closing the refrigerator door slowly. "I appreciate it, all the food, it's very kind of you." 

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "You wanna a cup of coca?"

Castiel nodded, taking the mug and bowl and sitting down at the dining table, Dean came around and sat in the next seat over, sipping on some herbal tea. 

"Tell me about every dish," Castiel said as he watched Dean breathe in the gingery tea and bask in the quiet warmth with the dogs circling their feet, begging for scraps. 

"I made jacket potatoes, they heat up real nice even in the microwave," Dean said shyly. "And spinach curry with paneer, there's a container of basmati rice under it, you mix the two and eat it together reheated. It's tasty and should give you an iron and vitamin boost. Um, I didn't exactly know what you like to eat, so I made all the dishes that I like to cook for family and Jessica tells me my chicken chow mien is better than what you can get in San Fran." 

"Looks like there's enough food there to keep me fed for a month," Castiel remarked, smiling when Dean ducked his head out of embarrassment. "Are you coming back to help me eat it all?" 

"Maybe take a look and freeze some, then it might last you till I'm back," Dean nodded in the direction of the pantry. "I left some cookies in there, maple pecan."

Castiel's eyes widened dramatically. 

"And uh chocolate fudge macadamia," Dean finished with a coy smile.

"Hmm," Castiel dug his fork into the lasagne, going silent as he tasted the creamy sauce. "Gosh-darnit that's good." 

"Yeah, fucking good right," Dean watched Castiel swallow the mouthful and quickly spoon up another, tongue darting out to swipe up a swirl of cheese at the corner of his mouth. 

"If your cookie's half as good as your lasagne, you're not allowed to leave this house ever," Castiel said with sincere menace. "I'm going to beg you to cook all the time. Your brother and Charlie can drop in and eat but they're not allowed to take you away, or if they do they'll have to take me with you. Not your bodyguard, not the law, nothing's going to part me with those clever hands. I know the local police, I can cover up your disappearance from Hollywood." 

Dean laughed, downing his tea. "Yeah, yeah, Cas. I'll see you around. Enjoy the leftovers." 

Castiel shook his head. "You can't drive out there, the roads are closed." 

Dean shook his head. "Baby can cope, got new all terrain tyres on her and she's real juiced up under that hood. The engine's barely street legal, don't tell the cops." 

"Dean, it's not safe. Wherever you need to go, I can give you a ride in the morning." 

Dean sat down again, looking at his cell phone in his hand. 

"Truth is," Dean sighed. "I don't have to go right this minute." 

He looked conflicted, his eyes darting to the door then back to the fire. 

"Like you said Cas, if I don't go now, I might never leave." 

Castiel could see Dean's eyes wandering over towards the stairs going up to the bedroom. He was looking in that direction himself, wondering how many layers Dean wore under his leather jacket, wanting to find out for himself, layer by layer. 

Dean looked like he might cry. 

"You know if I don't get a move on, I'm gonna sit here and eat lasagne till I can't move and make chocolate fondue, I've already checked your larder you've got all the fixings and I brought fresh fruit. And then, I'm gonna say 'I need a wash Cas' and you're gonna say 'Of course' in that deep sexy voice of your's and look at me with those blue puppy eyes and follow me in and then we'll end up knotted somewhere inconvenient in the house and I'm gonna want, I'm gonna beg for that over and over. The food, the time, the knot, you. And I'm never gonna fucking go and we'll be old and in that cemetery together and like, like that's one hell of a commitment." 

Castiel nodded, in that hopelessly understanding way that Dean seemed to love and fear all at once. "I see." 

"Yeah, so, slippery roads and snowstorm, seems kinda less intimidating in contrast." 

"I understand," Castiel ate the last forkful. "It doesn't have to be like that." 

Dean looked at Castiel incredulously. 

"If we get too far ahead of ourselves we might never appreciate the present," Castiel said. "It's Halloween in Angelfell, the biggest holiday here and sure there'll be no tricker treaters with this unseasonable weather, but its still Halloween. We could dress up and light up some pumpkins and watch television."

Dean looked at Castiel uncertainly. "No ... no uh knotting?" 

"No sex whatsoever," Castiel promised. 

"I know you said that To make me feel better but I'm not sure I like the sound of it," Dean chewed over the idea. 

"I have candy," Castiel said after a pause. "A copious amount of it, I had been expecting tricker treaters until the weather turned." 

Dean gave a long weary sigh. "You had me at candy, Cas." 

They sat in front of the television and Dean logged into his Netflix (since Castiel had unsubscribed from his account). 

"It's cool, you can save my password, I have like free membership for life," Dean shrugged, using the remote to key in his password which was predictably '1mpala'. "It's a Hollywood perk. Have it written into my distribution contracts." 

Castiel wasn't sure if Dean was yanking his chain but he sat there, warm and oppressed on one side by Halo and on the other by Dean, Grace rested on the other side of the omega, her chin in Dean's lap. She made clicking sounds in the back of her throat, as if she was trying to purr like a cat. 

They watched Stranger Things 3, then Dean clicked over into other subscription services and saved even more passwords and showed him the trailer for American Gods and finally settled on Good Omens. Castiel let the strange fantasy stories flow over him, not getting too caught up in the intricacies of convoluted plotlines, but rather watched the lights of the vivid special effects flicker over Dean's face, colour his hair, sparkle in his eyes. The sounds of fighting and running and magic growing faint as he fell asleep next to Dean. His head drooping low towards the warmth of Dean's chest and eventually ending up in his lap beside Grace, who budged over a fraction with a put upon look and he heard purring when Dean ran his fingers through his hair absentmindedly and knew it wasn't the dogs. 

=*=*=*=

The roads reopened in the morning and Dean drove out of town, as unattached as he was yesterday. Castiel found candy wrappers under the couch when he vacuumed and when he came across his jeans with the hole in them in the laundry he didn't have the heart to throw it out. So he bundled it up inside the other pair that Dean had given him, the ones Dean had worn in the back of the Impala. The ones Castiel took out some evenings and spent time with. Another alpha might have felt a sting to their pride for hoarding such tokens but Castiel treasured the keepsakes. They were gold stars marking sweet memories and if Dean never wanted anything more than cuddling and candy of a temporary nature, Castiel was okay with that. Every fragment or taste or moment with Dean was precious, however fleeting. 

=*=*=*=

In November Castiel and Grace were accepted into the exchange program. Castiel had mere days to finish up at the station, get his secondment signed off and make his way up north by train. There was no point driving, since the training program started with a three week wilderness orientation where he was going to be living in zones inaccessible for cars. He was allowed to bring Halo along as well, since Gadreel put in a good word with his Canadian counterpart. When he got to the last train station, he remembered that he had forgotten to give Balthazar his authority to act as agent in his stead. So he wrote a hasty note and sent it by fax back to Angelfell postal office, keeping his fingers cross that Daphne would pass it on. He didn't think Balthazar owned a fax machine, let alone had a fax number. He caught a lift to the remote location in an RCMP four wheel drive (apparently they didn't just get around on horseback) and as he got out of cellphone range, Castiel all but disappeared from the world. 

=*=*=*=

Dean sat awkwardly in Balthazar's car as the real estate agent drove him down another winding country road. 

"This property has lake access," Balthazar was saying. "And a private dirt bike track." 

Dean listened half heartedly. He had gone into the real estate agency as a last resort. Even Charlie couldn't work out where Castiel had gone. It had seemed a bit weird to barge in on the guy's place of work looking for Castiel so the words that tumbled out of his mouth was that he was looking for a place to stay. In a way that had been true, Dean had moved heaven and earth to vacate a few days on his calendar so that he could visit Castiel in Angelfell. So now he did need somewhere to sleep. 

The idea of staying with Cas for a few days had been taking root in Dean's mind for a while. The last meeting in October had been too brief and Castiel had been more than wonderful company. They had eaten a mountain of candy and snuggled in front of the tv and nothing had happened at all sexually and Dean had felt both relieved and disappointed at once. It was obvious to him now that perhaps his attraction had transmuted into something else. Something he was too scared to put a name to just yet. He was pretty sure that the tattoo wasn't the thing that was drawing them together now. It wasn't the way Castiel smelt and felt like home either. It was even beyond the excited fluttering in his stomach or the urgent desire lower down. What appealed was the existence of Castiel. The way the man was there, solid and dependable and gorgeous and sweet and patient. So Dean kept coming back, with this wonderful sense that he would be accepted whenever he showed up. 

"The spa can be heated so you can hot tub in the snow." Balthazar was still talking. Dean looked at the lake, wide and blue and reflecting a pristine sky. 

"Can't see the waterfall from here," Dean said, not being picky, just noticing. 

"There's only one property on the books that has a view over the waterfall," Balthazar said, grinning that cheshire cat grin. "Would you like me to show it to you?" 

"Yeah sure," Dean answered distractedly, thinking about Castiel's candy stash. It had contained rainbow marshmallows, vanilla mint swirl boiled candies, Reese's peanut butter cups in miniature, lemon sours, jawbreakers and caramel apples with fresh green innards that were tart and sweet at once. 

He only started paying attention to the familiar woods when they were almost at the front door. With mounting panic Dean realised where Balthazar was taking him. 

"The owner is out of the country," Balthazar said with a gleam in his eyes as he showed Dean into the house. 

It looked different and felt weird. The furniture covered with dust sheets and all the personal items packed up and out of sight. The fridge was the same and the minimal electronics had stayed. The historical mantle was empty. The kitchen had a wooden bowl with fake lemons inside. Some sort of real estate trick to make the place look homely. It felt haunted. Dean looked around at the graceful doorways and clean windows, it felt empty beyond words. He stood by the kitchen sink and stared out at the waterfall and listened for the familiar trickling sounds. 

"As you can see this is a lovely home and it comes furnished," Balthazar said, sly eyes taking in Dean's discomfort. "Is this the sort of place you can imagine yourself feeling at home in, Mr Winchester?" 

Dean looked up the stairs, where the bedroom door stood open. He didn't want to go up there and see an empty stripped bed. 

"Is the owner returning soon?" Dean asked with a lump in his throat. 

"He's gone, could be a long term rental option," Balthazar said blithely. "I've had several couples look at this place, some of them were quite interested, your brother included. Would you be renting it as a couple or a single?" 

Dean looked at Balthazar, a little dumbfounded by the question. 

"I uh ... I don't know," Dean stuttered. "My alpha's ..." 

Then he stopped speaking, his eyes rounding even as Balthazar lifted an eloquent eyebrow at him. 

"I don't have ..." Dean shrugged and tried again. "I'm not with ..." 

"Oh honey, the whole world knows you've got a claim tattoo," Balthazar said in a not unkind tone. "And you're lucky to have that name on your chest, the whole town is in love with him if you haven't noticed." 

"Oh, I noticed alright," Dean bit his lips. 

"Even yours truly. I've been in love with Cassie since forever, platonically," Balthazar suddenly said. "I don't think I'd have survived this town if I didn't have him during my wilderness years. I was kind of wild as a young man, if you would believe that." 

Dean snorted. 

"I mean I dated his brother Gabriel later but Cassie was always my best friend and I'm sure if he ever had felt anything but friendship for me I would have reciprocated it but alas he did not," Balthazar said. "Cassie lives on a different planet, he cares, he feels but he's not of this world. I didn't think he was ever gonna love anyone human, he could love a place, the people in it, but not a single individual. Then you come along, Mr Hollywood, the last person I'd expect him to fall for, he's an earth bound angel and you're a faraway star in the sky. But you crashed down like a meteor."

Dean felt the sincerity and the weight of those words. 

"You here to make Cassie into a great big dark crater?" Balthazar asked. "Or are you here to light him up? Can a rock crashing through the sky even make those kinds of decisions?" 

Dean shook his head, he nodded his head, he wiggled his shoulders. He could say nothing. 

"Why don't I leave you here for a few minutes while you mull it over," Balthazar said. "I'll wait in the car." 

Dean stood in the empty kitchen and felt Castiel's absence like a chilly wind, awakening him.


	21. Chapter 21

In November, Castiel briefly returned to Angelfell for a few days leave. He stayed at Balthazar’s knowing that his house had finally been leased. Balthazar had been proud of the signing of the contract, promising that the renters were a lovely mated couple who would take great care of the antique mantle. The thought that someone else was inhabiting his life in his hometown stung more than Castiel had expected, but it had seemed selfish to keep the place shut up and empty, unloved and untaken care of in his absence. Balthazar lived in a condo right in the centre of town, with views over the lake and pier and just a quick walk away from the station. His guest room was spacious and modern and Bal worked so much that he was hardly ever there. So Castiel didn’t feel too in the way for his brief holiday stay. The dogs seemed to enjoy the warmer winter and catching up for brunch with his friends (discussing the thanksgiving feast to come at Jody and Donna’s place) was a pleasure. What Castiel had not expected was being woken up early on Thanksgiving Day by a phone call from the police station asking if he could assist with a search and rescue. 

The young man was a tourist staying at Rowena’s Bed and Breakfast. His name was Jack Kline and he had gone for a walk on the hiking trails without a coat in the middle of November. His mother Kelly had expected him back by breakfast but he didn’t show up and now the whole town was out looking for him. Castiel dressed quickly, bringing Halo and Grace with him. Grace was on the verge of graduating, having completed all her field tests and won commendations for her participation in the orientation games the RCMP held for trainee police dogs. The Husky in her had loved the bleak winters and endless terrain of the remote Alaskan landscape. Halo on the other hand had probably a sharper nose, a relatively well insulated frame for the cold but he was a lover of comforts. He preferred Castiel’s sparse bed and the fireplace to the great outdoors and was very much in love with swimming in the relatively warmer waters of the lake. Castiel took the dogs to meet with Kelly and after letting them sniff out Jack’s coat, Castiel took the garment and went on the hunt. 

It was a bright and sunny day and though Kelly was frantic because of the chilly morning, Castiel was confident that given the number of people who had turned out and with the dogs around Jack would be found sooner rather than later. The hiking trail he had gone on was a relatively easy one and perhaps Kelly had thought the terrain much more treacherous since they were urbane folk who lived in Washington. 

It was almost a festival like atmosphere, the visitors standing in the carpark of the picnic area getting briefed by the locals and assigned the more grassy and flat meadows to search. The more seasoned hikers were grouped with the locals, everyone got handed photocopied trail maps (fresh from Balthazar’s office), whistles and brightly coloured beanies with huge pompoms courtesy of the town souvenir store. They were left over stock from Halloween in vivid Fall colours and you could spot them from a mile off. They split everyone into two shifts so that there was time for a break and cups of hot spicy pumpkin soup or ginger lattes courtesy of Eileen’s delivery van and a quick eyeing from Hannah to make sure that no one was over exposed or in need of a rest. Inias had parked the ambulance right by the trail entrance in case there was a medical emergency. While Benny, Cain, Jody and Samandriel in their volunteer fire fighters uniforms were unloading log cutters and axes in case they needed to use the more heavy duty equipment. Castiel knew just about everybody who had come out to help. Even Damian Dane, wearing a cheerful hot pink, violet and azure beanie on his head, pulled down his dark sunglasses to wink at Castiel before heading off in search of Jack. The few people Castiel didn’t know were likely tourists, huddled and determined and watched over by a vigilant and bossy Rowena, supervised as they helped out in distributing supplies, food and water. There who only one guy, who stayed out of Castiel’s way, that drew his eye. When Castiel cupped his hands over his eyes to take a look, because the dogs were making a fuss, he saw the man gulp down the rest of his salad sandwich and soup, run fast and dart into the woods, bright marine blue and lemon yellow beanie twinkling out of sight. Castiel looked around, expecting to see someone else follow man into the trees, since he figured that must be one half of the couple renting his house. It was too far away to tell, but something about the speed and agility of the man made Castiel think omega. In the few seconds he had to scan the crowd, Castiel couldn’t quite see any likely alphas. Not a man or a woman and he felt inexorably bad for the omega who was searching through the woods on his own. 

“I thought we told all the visitors to stick together and work in groups,” Castiel said to Donna. 

Donna blinked at him. “Uh, yeah, we sure did.” 

“That guy just went into the trees by himself,” Castiel frowned. “We don’t want two lost tourists on our hands.” 

“What guy?” 

“Yellow and blue beanie,” Castiel said. 

Donna looked confused. “Oh, he’s not a tourist. Lives here, moved in a month ago?”

She looked Castiel up and down, pulled a confused face and backed away. “Okey doke, I’ll go start at the north and you head south.” 

“Is he renting out my house?” Castiel asked but Donna just waved and bustled off. 

It was Grace who found Jack first. She did everything she had been trained to do. Scouted ahead, sat down by the side of the trail where Jack had left the beaten track to indicate which direction Castiel should head, ran ahead and comforted the young man who had twisted his ankle and was sitting idly beneath a pine tree waiting for rescue. 

“I was wondering if you could point out the way back to the village?” Jack said to Castiel when he saw him. “I like your hat.” 

He was a little chilled and very hungry but when Castiel handed him a protein bar he wolfed down most of it, carefully read the ingredient list, then snuck the last morsel into Halo’s waiting maw. Castiel held Jack by the arm and helped him limp his way back onto the track, where he then blew hard on his whistle so that the other trackers could find them. Inias and Benny carried the stretcher over and then everyone took turns carrying Jack out much to Jack’s embarrassment and Kelly’s great relief. They packed up the rescue kits, ate the rest of the free food and everyone attended a final headcount before heading back to their Thanksgiving day activities. Except Donna looked troubled when she ticked off the list in her hand. 

“ Novak, come ‘ere we’re missing someone,” Donna traced her fingers down the supplies list. “I got one beanie and one whistle unaccounted for and we’re losing the daylight now.” 

“Who?” 

“Blue and yellow,” Donna sighed. “He hasn’t reported back.” 

“Maybe he left the search,” Castiel reasoned. 

“No, everyone knows they need to sign off, so we don’t stand around waiting for someone who’s already gone. You got the dogs, go look.” 

Castiel knew Donna was serious when she called everybody back and handed out the whistles, the beanies and this time small torches all over again. 

“We’re not gonna stay out long, I have to call everyone off by 4pm because no matter how experienced a hiker you are, we can’t stay out here in the dark and there’ll be nothing to find. So you all have an hour and the man you’re looking for is 6’4”, medium build, fair with dark hair. He’ll answer to Michael Smith.” 

“Where’s his mate, maybe there’s an article of clothing I could get the dogs to scent,” Castiel suggested. “Everyone’s been up and down these trees all day, there’s a lot of smells here already.” 

Donna wasn’t looking Castiel in the eyes. “I don’t think the dogs’ll miss him.” 

“He’s an omega right, mated and everything?” Castiel wouldn’t give up. “We could call his alpha and she or he can come and smell him out. Much easier than a lost beta. I figured he’s the guy who rented my cottage, I remember the name form the contracts. Can’t recall the name of the alpha though, don’t think it was mentioned.” 

“His alpha, uh, hasn’t been in town,” Donna said exasperated. “What is this landlord Q&A? You go find the guy and I’ll call his family and I’m sure everything will be fine.” 

Castiel gave her a puzzled look, she was hiding something. He wondered if Balthazar hadn’t maybe rented out the house to Sam Winchester under an assumed name, to avoid all the painful mentioning Dean’s name to Castiel business. Castiel couldn’t imagine going home to smell Dean on his furniture because he knew how much Dean adored his niece and nephews and would be spending time with them whenever he could. 

The dogs certainly seemed unperturbed by all the scent trails left behind by the searchers. Grace was running a perfect half a mile ahead, sniffing under bushes and pointing Castiel deeper into the trees. At one point Castiel thought he saw a flash of bright citrus but it quickly ducked out of sight. A few miles down, he found a beanie floating in a creek and muddy foot prints. The whole forest was starting to grow dim and he could almost scent toasted s’mores on the evening chill. Which was strange, since there weren’t any fires around and beneath the sweet marshmallow scent was spice and oddly enough banana milk shake. The smell was momentarily pungent then fleeting and if Castiel was a paranoid man he would have thought that Michael Smith was nearby but in hiding. 

“You better come out,” Castiel called out when he was so deep in the woods that it was hard to see. “It’s getting dark, whatever your problem is, we can sort it out in town.” 

There was the sharp snap of a branch and then a blurry shape sprinted out, right in the opposite direction. The smell of cream and fire exploded across Castiel’s senses and before he knew what he was doing he had taken off in a run, chasing the man through the forest, the dogs yelping excitedly and running with him, Halo galloping ahead. 

It felt strangely wonderful to run till his lungs were pumping air in and out like a steam engine, fogging up the dusk in front of Castiel’s face. His legs were pumping fast, his habit of jogging and all the training on far more challenging terrain north of the boarder made his strides long and loping, he felt like he could run forever. There was an alpha part of him that savoured the freedom of it and honed his eyes to the retreating shape of the omega ahead of him and made him match the rhythm of his run to his prey. Then it was easy, just a little faster for a little longer and he was closing in. Halo barked and leapt into the air and Castiel was suddenly horrified that the labrador might get carried away. 

Halo landed on the omega like a tonne of bricks, climbing over the prone body and licking and whimpering furiously. 

Castiel ran up, grabbed the no-longer-puppy by the collar and pulled him off of ... Dean who was rolling and laughing and wiping drool from his cheeks. The smell was overwhelming and even as Castiel watched Dean lying there in the damp earth, his face pale in the dusk light, his mouth and cheeks red from the exercise, he immediately understood why Dean had run away. 

“Hiya Cas,” Dean said awkwardly licking his dry lips. “Funny running into you here.” 

Castiel looked at Dean appalled. 

“Just hanging out, strolling around in the forest, not breaking any laws or anything.” 

“Dean...” 

“Like I was out here to help with finding the hiker but uh, I didn’t want things to get awkward since you know I rented your house because it has this great view of the waterfall ...” 

Castiel opened and closed his mouth, there was bonfire and succulent flowers in the air. 

“Because renting your house out is like totally not weird and I completely didn’t do it to freak you out and the mantle is in like tip top condition, because I hand waxed it coupla times, don’t worry ...” 

Castiel looked around, it was hard to see the trail now, they’d gone too far off the path. 

“And anyway that’s got nothing to do with me not wanting to uh come say hi when I saw you were back in town. Its just that Donna mentioned you were only back for a few days for Thanksgiving and I figure that was like a family holiday and as much as I like you and I’m guessing you don’t mind me, like I know I’m not family and it was well kind of forward of me to rent out your place and and like I don’t want you to think the claiming tattoo got to my head and I’m full on Stepford Wife-ing myself in Angelfell waiting to be claimed or something ...”

Castiel couldn’t tell why Dean was still talking nervously, he tilted his head and listened to Dean’s pounding heartbeat. 

“And like the townfolk have been real nice, not one says anything to me about being Dean Winchester, they call me Mike or Mr Smith and last week when Mick Davies tried to come by and take photos Donna escorted him outta town. Like I can have a pretty nice life here in between projects ...” 

Dean’s mouth opened and closed, his teeth were white pearl, his tongue kitten pink. Castiel stared mesmerised. 

“I just don’t want things to get tense between us.” Dean finished lamely. 

Castiel blinked. 

“We’re fine,” he said appeasingly. 

“Are we?” Dean asked after a pause. “Like seriously?”

Castiel nodded gravely. “Yes, Dean.” 

Dean slowly climbed to his feet. 

“Oh yeah? Things are totally fine here,” Dean waved his hands between them. “Like nothing to see, move on, oh wait can’t. Can’t move on, can’t go forward, won’t back down.” 

Castiel took a step back, Dean was bearing his teeth and leaving these huge hanging gaps between his full stops that were looming threateningly in the air. 

“Like how many times we been here, Cas? Me coming to your town, you visiting me at cons, interviewing me. All this back and forth, when’s it gonna end? When the twelve months is up? Or when you leave the country, well clearly not. Or when I do? When one of us is mated to someone else?” 

Castiel sucked air into his lung, it was cold. “What, who else?” 

“I don’t know, some winsome sweet as pie omega,” Dean hissed like he was seeing a vision of the future with his own eyes. “Someone more stable, someone with a less packed schedule. Inias or Hannah or Daphne. Who’ll follow you to Canada or Alaska or Mars.” 

Dean jabbed a finger into Castiel’s chest. “Someone who isn’t me, because for heaven’s sake you’ve had more than enough chances to try for me. What am I supposed to do, wave a big white flag and camp out in your bedroom, oh wait ... already there! Been there for a month!” 

Castiel felt his back press against the trunk of a tree, he had no where to go. Halo and Grace had bounded off somewhere and Dean was intoxicatingly sweet smelling and furious. 

“What ...” Castiel started speaking but Dean grabbed a handful of his shirt front and looked like he might swallow Castiel’s head if he said the wrong words. Castiel could smell the fire cracker and honeysuckle pouring off Dean’s skin. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

Dean lowered his head, green eyes almost gleaming in the darkness falling around them. Dean was a strong man, omega or not, a tall and well proportioned man with good reflexes and tensed muscles and Castiel felt the challenge in his grip. 

“I want ...” Dean gritted his teeth, he was panting. “Gimme a minute ...” 

“Dean?” 

“I want my alpha,” Dean said hopelessly. “I want to not be scared and I want to be sure.” 

Castiel nodded, he could see the sweat beading over Dean’s temple, smell the desperate desirous perspiration hanging like a miasma around his head, dampening his hairline. 

“You’re scared,” Castiel said, touching his hand to Dean’s forehead. 

Dean whimpered. 

“If it makes it any better, I’m terrified,” Castiel pressed his fingertips against Dean’s skin. “I think I’m more scared than you.” 

“Not a competition,” Dean clenched his jaw but Castiel could see the sudden softening of his posture. 

“Well, I’m scared and I’ve slicked my pants so I win,” Dean said stubbornly, crossing his arms. 

And the air filled with the scent of heat though the temperature was dropping fast and Castiel was sure it wouldn’t be advisable to stay out here much longer but the thing was, the important thing, the most important thing. 

Dean was in heat.


	22. Chapter 22

"We can't stay here," Castiel said, putting the whistle into his mouth. The plastic mouthpiece felt dry on his tongue. "Dean. I will blow this." 

Dean wasn't listening, he was sitting on the ground, ass on a tree trunk, hands rubbing up and down Castiel's upper thighs. Going a little cross eyed as he stared at the alpha's crotch. 

"Yeah, blow Cas. Blow sounds good," Dean said looking a little out of his mind and a lot flushed. 

As Dean closed in, Castiel sucked in a lungful of air and when Dean's cheek rubbed, long and hot, over the growing bulge between Castiel's legs the whistle went off in a shrill scream. 

Dean opened his eyes, which had been half shut in bliss, with some alarm. 

"What'd you gone and do that for Cas?" 

"I'm not rutting you here," Castiel insisted. "We'll get dirty and ..." 

"That's the idea, Cas," Dean said dreamily.

"... and risk dying from exposure," Castiel finished. "The sun's down and the windchill factor alone..." 

"That sounds less sexy," Dean murmured, tongue running along Castiel's fly, shoulders shrugging eloquently. "But I don't care." 

"Dean," Castiel looked down at Dean, swerving his hips out of reach and getting down on a bended knee. 

Dean looked confused and taken aback. "You proposing Cas?"

Castiel rolled his eyes then gave Dean his most serious cop face, the sort of look that froze and aroused at once, like ice and fire, or bourbon and ice cream. "Bombay Alaska." 

Castiel raised an eyebrow at Dean's sudden (verbal) ejaculation. 

"Meringue with whiskey or brandy and set on fire, ice cream inside," Dean licked his lips. "You smell like that. Like the scent of snow and forest fire." 

"Thank you," Castiel said with a straight face. "I think. Dean, I need you to pay attention. Eyes up here, please." 

Dean made a valiant effort, lifting his eyes above Castiel's waistline, then pulling them further up away from Castiel's mouth. 

"We've been here before," Castiel said. "Time and again. We lose control, consumed by our lust, we rush in and it is very very pleasant ..."

"Pleasant?" Dean sounded hurt. "Like heaven and earthquakes." 

"I said 'very very'," Castiel frowned intensely. "A redundant tautology to express the 'very-ness' of the pleasant experience." 

"I think," Dean said with rounded eyes. "You're impersonating Grammerly to piss me off. Or turn me off more like." 

Castiel blinked rapidly, caught out in his rather transparent scheme. 

"You're in heat Dean, I need to get you safe and comfortable and leave you to it." 

Dean's hands became claws in Castiel's police shirt, fingers scrabbling over the embroidered 'C. Novak' on his chest pocket. 

"Don't you fucking 'leave me to it', you're my alpha Cas, admit or not and you're gonna knot me tonight. Not tomorrow. Not in the morning. Not after the heat. This hour, right now, here."

"You need privacy," Castiel said, his voice trembling a little as Dean stared him down. 

"I need you," Dean pressed Castiel into the tree and said very slowly. "To fuck me." 

"But Dean," Castiel sighed. "Emotions and words ..." 

"Feelings and stuff are important, I get it," Dean did this full body shiver against Castiel. "We'll get to that but right now ..."

The sound of running feet and barking dogs and excited whistles penetrated the copse of trees they were in. Dean groaned in frustration and stomped his feet. 

"This is on you! When they find my body, dead from over-heating, or my dick's exploded and my brain has melted from the fucking mating fever, this is on you Cas! You've murdered me!" 

Castiel choked on a laugh. "Dean, there's no such thing as a mating fever." 

"Fucking touch me," Dean grabbed Castiel's hand and dragged his knuckles across his temple. "Touch this!" 

Castiel's hand cupped over Dean's erection, the full swollen length of it in his jeans, instinctively. 

"How can you be so calm and stand there when I'm falling to pieces," Dean hissed. 

Castiel's answer was a full mouthed kiss, his tongue not lashing exactly, not forceful, but bargy and fully occupying the space inside Dean's mouth. His lips were rose petal soft and the tips of his fingers on Dean's neck tickled. Without saying anything, when they pulled apart, Castiel grabbed Dean by the waist and lifted him from the ground. Dean's feet kicked into the air and his arms looped around Castiel's neck and he would have grumbled about being bridal carried in a forest but he was too busy burying his nose in Castiel's collarbone and turning his crotch towards Castiel's tight stomach. Dean would have said something about Castiel showing off his alpha strength but the jostling of his dick against Castiel's abdomen was making him huff and the pulse beside Castiel's clenched jaw jumped delightfully under the press of his tongue. 

There was talking, people surrounding them and then yelping in embarrassment when they caught a whiff of the mating scents pouring off them and jogging to keep a circular boundary around them. There was the sound of a siren going off and the ambulance officer talking to Castiel who only nodded or shook his head in response. 

"Stay clear, give 'em room," Donna could be heard barking out on the radio. "Get the medic." 

"I brought the ambulance as far up the track as I could," Inias told Castiel, trying to breathe through his mouth, staying upwind of them. 

Dean spared the ambulance officer a baleful look. Inias was red faced and shielding his front with a first aid supply case. 

"I can give him a shot of suppressants," Inias said tentatively. "Maybe a gallon might do it." 

"You can check him over in the back," Castiel grunted. 

"Okay, pass him to me," Inias' arms were slapped away by Dean, who curled up and clung to Castiel in a needy fashion that he would never admit to outside of a heat. 

"I can sedate him," Inias reached out again. This time it was Castiel who growled. A full throaty sound that made Dean's insides turn to mush. Inias' medical kit bounced on his hip. 

Castiel carried Dean to the ambulance, Donna had chased the crowd back to the assembly point. It was just the three of them, and that was one too many bodies as far as Dean was concerned. 

"I have to put you down," Castiel murmured into Dean's hair. "Please let Inias look you over." 

"Want you, Cas," Dean's hands grabbed onto the back of Castiel's neck. "Just you." 

"Hush, I'll stay right here, you can feel my hand in yours," Castiel offered. 

"Wanna feel your knot in my ..." Dean swallowed the words when Inias' best professional, if flushed, face loomed into view.

"How are you feeling Dean?" Inias squeezed Dean's shoulders. 

"Horny," Dean said tersely. "You?" 

"Your temperature is a little elevated," Inias beeped a thermometer over Dean's forehead and very helpfully stated. "Pupils dilated. Heart rate is up. Oxygen is good. He's in heat." 

Castiel looked at Inias. "Indeed." 

Inias pulled open the velcro straps on the stretcher bed. "I need to restrain you Dean, so I can put a drip in you. You need hydration and medical intervention and even then it might be too late to suppress the heat." 

"That what you want, Cas?" Dean looked at Castiel. 

Castiel worried his fingers along the velcro strap. Dean rolled his eyes and fitfully thrust his wrist into them. "Fine." 

"I can give you something for the rut too," Inias said, helping to secure Dean's hands by his side and rolling up one of Dean's sleeves. 

Dean hissed at the touch of Inias' rubber gloved fingers on his skin. "Fuck, even that feels fucking good." 

Castiel bared his teeth, his arm shooting out to keep Inias back from Dean. "Don't.Touch.Dean." 

Inias looked at Castiel with alarm. 

"Omega," Castiel grabbed Inias' wrist, the ambulance officer looked like he might faint beneath Castiel's intense blue gaze.

"Yes, alpha?" Inias panted. 

"Fuck off!" Dean kicked with his feet, trying to make contact with Inias' ass with his toes. "He's my alpha!" 

Inias looked panicked as he rememberEd who he was and what he was meant to be doing. "I'm sorry, I just, Cas' rut scent." 

He strapped on a face mask but looked no calmer. As Inias rifled through the tubes of suppressants Castiel croaked. "Hurry omega." 

Inias sobbed and dropped the lot, falling to his knees. Dean rattled the stretcher hard, swearing at Inias to get out. Calling out Castiel's name and sliding the stretcher several inches across the floor space of the ambulance. 

Castiel turned and seized Inias by the shoulders, the man shuddered and edged forward on his knees. 

"Not you, he's my omega," Castiel gasped, kicking open the rear door of the ambulance and pushing Inias out. 

The air was freezing and there was torchlights everywhere, pinpointed on the emergency vehicle, Donna was standing with her hand over her face, concerned. 

Inias blinked, taking in lungfuls of fresh air and collecting himself. He looked mortified. "I'm so sorry Castiel, I'm sorry I was so unprofessional. Let me get another face mask, I can go back in there if you come out." 

Castiel shook his head. "Inias, I want you to get in the front and drive. Drive to my house." 

"He needs to take a bath in suppressants," Inias said. "A medically unsound quantity of it." 

"He needs an alpha, and he wants me," Castiel said his voice incredulous and soft. "I'm the alpha he needs." 

Inias looked moved, his pale blue eyes huge and wet. "Okay, I'll get you guys there." 

"Don't stop the ambulance, no matter what you hear," Castiel said. "Can you do that Inias?" 

"Yes," Inias nodded gravely. "I won't let you down again, Castiel." 

"Wait," Castiel grabbed Inias' elbow. "Lubricants?" 

"Left shelf, top draw," Inias said confidently. 

Castiel gave Inias a solemn nod as the omega closed the ambulance door again. Almost immediately the engine was switched on and the sirens blared.

In the flickering blue and red light, Dean lay still on the stretcher, his hands still bound, his eyes fixed on Castiel's. 

"I understand that you need me, omega," Castiel said quietly, fingers going to the latching of the binding. 

"Leave, leave them on, Cas," Dean whimpered softly. "I wanna, wanna come with them on." 

There were roses in his cheeks and stars in his eyes as he looked at Castiel. 

"I am in rut," Castiel carefully stated. "You know what that means Dean." 

"Yeah," Dean nodded. "I got it." 

"I need to hear it," Castiel bit his lips. "Before I touch you." 

"You can knot me Cas," Dean said with a strange sort of serenity. 

The medical grade lubricant came in a gallon bottle and Castiel found after pulling off Dean's pants that there had been no need to grease himself up to the wrists. Dean was already a sticky mess, all stiffness at the crotch and wetness between the cheeks. His shirt lay open, the tattoo vivid on his chest like branding, an advertisement of welcoming-ness. 

"So fucking tender," Dean lay gulping. "You being gentle with me Cas?" 

Castiel unbuckled his tool belt, laid it carefully on top of a high cabinet which was built into the walls. 

"I would like you to experience some softness," Castiel said, looking down into his fly awkwardly, sucking in a deep breath. "Oh."

"So fucking soft," Dean stared at Castiel, fingers curving and twisting over his bound wrist, like he was coaxing a cat. "Come show me, Cas." 

Castiel walked up to the stretcher, a hitch in his gait, he could barely move forward, his uniform trousers caught around his waist, distorted and distended by his erection. 

"It can't be that bad," Dean craned his neck to peek, he gasped. "Fuck Cas. Is it meant to be that colour?" 

"The blood flow is very strong." 

"Very, very," Dean lifted his eyebrows. "Put it in my mouth, I wanna see what happens." 

"Dean," Castiel grunted. "Open your legs." 

"Not gonna last long huh?" 

"Dean," Castiel gritted his teeth. "If you keep laying there talking, I can't guarantee I'll be able to insert it somewhere appropriate before the knot pops." 

"Alright, I'm not teasing," Dean threw one of his legs down over the side of the stretcher, rotating his hip to present himself in one easy fluid motion. His inner thighs were glossy with slick and the private flesh damask with excitement. 

Castiel used the foot peddle to elevate Dean to the perfect height then slipped in and with a few moves of friction sighed as his cock lodged and took hold. Dean trembled, his eyes fluttering. 

"Wish we coulda fucked properly before you knotted," Dean pulled on the wrist braces, his hips shivering as his shifted to accomodate the knot. It was still growing and Dean wasn't sure if it was ever gonna stop. If he could survive it, if it would ever stop growing. If it felt this good for Cas. 

"You okay buddy?" Dean said, looking over his shoulder. 

Castiel's head was bowed and he eyes were icy blue when he looked up at Dean. 

"Don't call me buddy," he said and leaned down and caught Dean's dick in his burning palm, the slick buttery and the lubricant slimy. The alternating textures cold and delightful and Castiel's hand job was rough and unsteady. Efficient int the extreme. 

Dean came abruptly, clenching and gasping and his hands flying to grab hold of Castiel's as the alpha let loose the bonds. He reached backwards to grab Castiel's hair, pulling him forward for a kiss that was more teeth than tongue. Castiel rubbed his fingers compulsively over Dean's nipples, his thumbs digging into Dean's armpits. Dean fumbled behind himself, his frantic face settling when he found the root of Castiel's penis, touching the hard stem with ginger fingers, then cupping his hand over Castiel's ass and pushing him forward another impossible half inch. The whole stretcher banged into the wall as the ambulance took another corner at speed. Dean sobbed with relief. 

With the first orgasm accomplished, Dean could orientate himself in the speeding vehicle. He could feel the rush of the road beneath the wheels. He could savour the velocity and take part of the voyage. Castiel shifted Dean's legs, gripping his ankles and pulling them over, so that he could face Dean and kiss his way up Dean's chest sloppily. 

Dean came a second time, when Castiel flicked his thumb over the nipple where his name was tattooed. Dean whimpered. 

"How," he looked down at his cock, twitching even as the come trickled onto the floor. "Mmm, all these small orgasms, making my toes buzz." 

He wasn't making much sense, but Castiel seemed to understand. 

"There's a knot applying pressure to your seminal glands, you're going to keep coming," Castiel explained helpfully. "It will take sometime for me to recede. You need to relax Dean, let nature take its course." 

"Fuck nature," Dean moaned. "Fuck, Cas." 

"You can do that later," Castiel promised. "And when my knot deflates, I'll penetrate you with the motion of my penis, so that you could enjoy the friction. For now, I need you calm." 

Dean stared down at his own stomach. "Cas, is that.. that you?" 

Castiel placed his hand over the slight protrusion, skimming over the bulge. Dean whimpered and squirted another load on the floor. 

"Well done, Dean," Castiel praised his efforts. Dean smacked Castiel's ass cheek, the resultant jolt milking another spray from him. 

"We're gonna need a mop," Dean husked. 

"There's one in the mudroom," Castiel said. 

"Yeah, I kept it," Dean answered, the ambulance came to a shuddering halt, the motion of the breaking slamming Dean back into Castiel and making the mop ever more a necessity. 

They lay there thinking of cleaning gadgets and orgasms. 

"Why've we stopped?" Dean asked. 

Castiel looked out the windows. "We're home." 

"Okay, great," Dean said. "Is Inias still up the front?" 

Castiel shrugged, eliciting a full bodied writhing from Dean and more seminal flow. 

"Guess we can't get in the house just yet," Dean said. 

"The engine is still running," Castiel said. "I think Inias is giving us heating." 

"Fuck, he's just sitting there, probably listening," Dean swore. "Don't this town need its ambulance back?" 

"We have another one and Hannah is qualified and on-call," Castiel answered. "For a small township we are well provided for." 

"Great, good to hear," Dean groaned. "And the medic still out the front?" 

"He has to keep an eye on us, Dean, the heat and the rut came on very suddenly Dean, it would be irresponsible to just let us try and mate it out. He has professional obligations to stay." 

"You put some earphones on, you hear?" Dean banged on the wall of the ambulance, somewhere in the direction of the driver's seat. 

Inias politely knocked back, calling out a muffled "Sure Dean." 

"He totally can hear us," Dean hissed, his eyes wide. 

"I can put my hand over your mouth, if you like," Castiel whispered back. 

"Yeah, and what about the screams of pleasure I'll be giving you?" Dean asked. 

Castiel looked at Dean. Dean looked back. Castiel moved his hips a fraction and Dean came all over the floor again. 

Castiel lifted his hand slowly, Dean gasped for air. 

"See, it works," Castiel smiled smugly. 

Dean wiped his damp eyes on his shirt sleeve. "Do that again Cas," he murmured, nuzzling into Castiel's palm. 

Inias ended up clocking up some six hours of over time. It snowed all night. The ambulance, hooked up on auxiliary form the garage, stayed toasty warm. In the small hours, Castiel and Dean slipped loose and then slipped out. Castiel knocked on the driver's side window to wake Inias. 

By the time the ambulance drove away, they were already cozy and warm in their bed. Dean had added a memory foam bed topper to Castiel's king sized four poster bed. Castiel approved of the enhanced firmness and bounciness. They left interesting imprints upon it. 

The second knotting happened in front of the fire place, leaving Castiel to stare approvingly at the hand waxed antique mantle while Dean wriggled his way towards climax. 

They lost count after that and fell asleep when the sun rose.


	23. Chapter 23

"He wants your puppies, Cassie," Donna said, scanning through the paperwork Dean had submitted via the police department adoption program. "Well, puppy, Dean's applied for custody of Halo."

The smirk she directed at him was infectious. Samandriel began giggling, resorting to hiding his face behind a folder half choking on his own guffaw. 

Castiel looked up from his desk startled. It had been about a month since, well since the knotting. It had been a stunning evening of personal revelations about receptiveness, appetites and the sense of accomplishment simple bodily emissions could bring to a person's soul. These actions and biological functions which in the past had seemed no more relevant to him than Swedish furniture assembly instructions, were suddenly fascinating in the extreme for the simple fact that Dean relished every attempt Castiel made. Thought him some masterful seducer for the instinctive actions and sounds he conduced and induced. It was like discovering a hidden talent in cookery, when your partner devoured all you had to offer, begged for the crumbs, feasted their sense upon you and wished to make a feast of you in turn. Like being in an orchard at harvest time, the ripening sweet fruits hanging low and plump and falling into your mouth of their own accord. All fragrance and taste, blushing in the furry skin, tempting sweet tang in the air, swelling with seed. 

"Castiel? Officer Novak?" Donna called, clicking her fingers for his attention. 

Castiel blinked rapidly at her. 

"Sex flash back?" Donna asked, putting her chin in her hand. 

"I was thinking about fruit," Castiel cleared his throat. "Pips and such." 

"Whatever unties your knot," Donna said without judgement. "So the puppies, you want Dean to have one of them? Grace is a fully commissioned police dog, she'll outrank both of us in five years, but uh Halo could be adopted if you wish it."

Castiel thought about it. "Dean is very good with him. He would take exceptionally good care of Halo."

"And give him all the more reason to stay in town," Donna suggested. "Okay, I've approved it on my end now. Shall I put your name down as referee for his adoption application or co-applicant?" 

The smile she had on her face was jubilant. 

Castiel studied his hands, his voice imbued with gravitas. "I would like to be a co-applicant, please." 

"Sure, I've plugged in your department id number, full name, date of birth and address. Marital status?" 

"Unmarried," Castiel said quickly. 

"Uh-huh," Donna said placidly. "Those things do take planning and courage. Not that it matters all that much. Oh here is a doozy... mating status?" 

Castiel scratched his head, taking his cap off because it was suddenly hot and his brain was unusually fuzzy thinking about it. "What ... what did Dean put down?"

"Well, there's the question," Donna covered up her screen with her hand to prevent Castiel from peeking. "Maybe you should ask Dean? If you don't know?" 

Castiel pondered on that. Dean would tell him what he had written, Dean was forthcoming, had been considerate. Had saved his number into Castiel's phone, had for all intents and purposes made every indication that he was staying around. For all the locals, Dean was now a resident of the town. 

Dean had personally sent Inias a huge pie basket from Eileen's bakery to thank him for his assistance. There had been anonymous donations, in huge amounts, to the Angelfell hospital and emergency service departments. They never did remember to mop up after themselves, Castiel noted, and it wasn't just Dean's job to show appreciation for the town residents' goodwill. He had personally purchased a lovely orchid from Kevin's florist and gone in to the hospital to give the pot plant to Inias, glad when the flower was taken from him which greatly increased its chances of survival. Though he did notice that in the brief month Dean had stayed in Angelfell, a sort of lush growth of indoor plants was starting to proliferate his living areas. Somehow Dean kept them alive even with his haphazard schedule. 

It had felt momentous when they had knotted but thereafter Castiel was simply full of warm soft feelings and no concrete plans to announce their growing bond. What was he supposed to do, take out an advertisement in the Angelfell Angler and announce the lodging of his knot in Dean's receptive reproductive organs? It had sounded absurd and boastful in his head. Could he otherwise intone his romantic intentions towards Dean? Castiel wasn't sure how to accomplish that. He had of course nullified the lease and asked Dean to leave his personal effects in the house. 

"You're already living here, but if you weren't, I would ask you to consider moving in, please, Dean," Castiel had said over banana pancakes and a syrupy reduction of berries. 

Dean had grinned and said slyly: "You asking me to live in sin with you angel?" 

The endearment was definitely a token from the time spent sitting on the couch and streaming through a lot of shows together. Dean liked to type in the names of producers and directors on his phone, taking notes of the content he enjoyed. He would look over at Castiel and climb over him till he laid down against the plush cushions and snuggled against the softest parts of his body and asked questions. 

"Sorry to be thinking about work, Cas," Dean said. "I know you want me to stay here with you." 

Castiel had laughed at the anxious lines bunching around Dean's forehead, he kissed the tilt of Dean's clamped shut mouth. 

"I want you to be you and you have a creative job, so you are constantly thinking about your art," Castiel said, then confessed in a low voice. "I sometimes think about crimes in Angelfell in the middle of Good Omens." 

Dean seemed taken aback by Castiel's understanding and he was over the moon when Castiel quietly added that Dean looked particularly attractive when he was deep in thought about his career. 

"I've dated people who look at my face and they just, just want that," Dean said in a furtive manner. "They gave a sort of awed look at first, that over time slowly gets less interested and eventually I'm just someone to show off, an enhancement." 

"Must be difficult being that beautiful," Castiel said, his eyes smiling. 

"It loses its impact," Dean said. "Not like being pretty, you're so pretty. Pretty you can look at all day and every day and still you see bursts of beautiful." 

"So you are beautiful and I'm pretty," Castiel rolled his eyes. 

"I can't smoulder the way you do, like you're mad and hot at the same time," Dean confided. "When you knot me its like you can't wait to get inside and then you wanna stay forever and do it again as soon as possible. Like you're hungry for me all the time. You look at me the way Halo looks at his bowl." 

"A decidedly less attractive analogy," Castiel said with mocking severity. "Did you just compare me to dog food?" 

Dean batted his lashes and gave Castiel these apple green puppy eyes that made the conversation end abruptly into a tableau of action.

* * * 

Filming started in late November for Dean, needing to be on set for snow shots for a new project. Halo went with him and the dogs said goodbye in the front yard smelling each other's faces. Castiel was still sweetly sore from the night before and Dean definitely had a hitch in his stride and a gleam in his eyes as he strapped Halo's driving harness into the seatbelt hook. Castiel rushed out to Dean then, still dressed in flannel pyjamas because of the early hour, soaking his slip-on shoes in the frosted over grass. He grabbed onto Dean's broad back and hugged him fiercely, Dean turned around in his arms, rubbing his bearded face against Castiel's own stubbly jaw. Dean's leather jacket smelled like spiced log fire and the neck warmer Castiel had clumsily knitted snuggled up against his ears. He opened his coat and pulled Castiel into it, whispering endearments and promises of calling him from the airport, reminding Castiel he was rostered for the early shift. Promising not to overfeed Halo. 

"My love, my alpha," Dean had said into the pulse of Castiel's neck. "Cas." 

Then he kissed him there, reverent and light on the unmarred skin. It felt like another promise. 

Dean called him, true to his word, shortly after arriving at the airport. He had met up with Charlie, who wore a pompom-ed scarf in autumnal colours clashing with hot pink snowflakes and waved excitedly in the background. There had not been that feeling of his chest crumpling like a crushed aluminium can to see Dean happy and safe on his work to an exciting new project. Castiel did not feel alone, the house had been warm when he returned inside, discarding his slippers to slip back between the still warm sheets for five minutes of losing himself in Dean's scent. He wasn't going to wash the linen for the month that Dean was away, keeping the bed as clean as possible, except for Dean's mess of books on the night stand and a stray bed sock wedged in to the bottom of the blankets. When Castiel discovered the PJ bottom and worn t-shirt Dean usually wore to bed, still crumpled in between the duvet and the sheets, he sniffed them and slipped them on so that material and the scent enveloped him. He noticed that his trench coat had gone again, packed into Dean's luggage. 

He never quite managed to explain to Dean why all phone sex had to take place on the couch, or in front of the fire place. 

"Are you trying to get bomb lighting, make me lust for fire glow on your skin?" Dean asked. 

"I don't want to come on the sheets in the bed, I don't want to cover up your scent," Castiel had said honestly. 

"Mmm, come in your underwear and courier it to me," Dean leered comically but Castiel could tell by the flare of Dean's nostrils he meant it. 

"That would surely be a biohazard," Castiel said. "And I don't want to do that to poor Daphne." 

"Daphne was the one who told me I could buy up all the calendars from Balthazar and assured me you would want to see me again," Dean told him. "A sweet selfless woman, why are your friends all so nice about being in love with you and losing you to me?" 

"Because love isn't about losing someone," Castiel said. "It's about seeing them happy and I am happy with you." 

"Even like this?" Dean asked, reaching his arm behind his head for a cushion, stretched out over a bench in his trailer. "In between set calls and without scent and not being able to touch?" 

"I could touch you, if you wish me to," Castiel looked at Dean through the screen, watched his pupils widen, darken, suck in the light. 

Castiel held the phone in his left hand, angled it so Dean could see his jawline, his neck, his uniform jacket sprawled on the rug where Grace was asleep curled up on her faux fur bed. He pressed zoom so Dean could see his unbuttoned shirt and watch with bated breath as he touched himself over his left pectoral muscle. His fingers circling the tattoo of Dean's name, running across his nipple, making the caramel of his areola darken with fine speckles of puckered nubs. He licked his index finger, then ran the wet tip across the words, smearing over the D and W. The letters turning gold where he applied pressure and vivid green in between presses. Dean's eyes fluttered half closed in bliss, but also greedily still taking in the sight of Castiel tracing over his name. 

"I can ... can feel that Cas, like a tingle," Dean hissed. "So its true, if it's a soul bond you can feel each other through it. Fuck that's divine." 

It didn't feel like pleasure but it was so pleasurable. Like electrical buzzing or the vibration of windows on the backs of buses when a forehead is pressed against the glass. Like a humming synchronicity of the soul. 

"It works with any bodily fluids?" Dean asked. 

"Blood, saliva, tears," Castiel said but Dean was already shifting his own phone, showing Castiel his genital, the beaded fluid growing at the oval hole in the tip of his erection. 

Dean swiped his thumb over it, scooping up the droplet, then smeared firmly across the peacock blue ‘Castiel’. It did feel like an electric shock, a frisson racing down his spine, spreading like bubbles in soda into his blood stream, pooling in his abdomen. 

"Gonna moisten it, got so much for you," Dean's hand dabbed like a fountain pen into an endlessly flowing inkwell, his moans and his sighs extravagant, the camera angle close and personal. "Gonna come all over it." 

And so he did, but not till an intense half hour of writhing on the rug before the fire had taken place for Castiel while stripped naked and Dean sprawled over the trench coat, burying his nose into the collar. 

"I was thinking about your neck," Dean confided in a whisper afterwards. "How it smells there." 

And the words had been on the tip of Castiel's tongue to ask if that's where Dean would sink his teeth, at the front or the back or around the side or like a vampire high near the jawbone or shyly over the collar bone, or straight in his throat.

Dean had struck Castiel as an omega who would place the first mating bite, making the alpha in him rear and roar. 

* * * 

Over Christmas Dean was able to come home, within days he had furnished the guest rooms and quickly the place filled up. Jessica and Sam took one of the rooms down stairs and Charlie had the other. Even Crowley and Naomi made an appearance at Thanksgiving speaking cynically about having no family outside of show business. Gabriel was back in his old room on the far side of the house and Balthazar after alot of mulled wine stayed the night in there with him. Dean and Castiel had their bedroom of course and Christmas dinner included skype calls to Dean's family and even Castiel's father on the boat via marine satellite. 

They managed to hold a games night on Boxing Day with the usual suspects. Cain, Damian Dane, Benny and Henriksen on the cards. Gabriel and Balthazar trying to beat Sam and Jessica on Twister. Eileen, Hannah and Charlie curled up on the couch in a fearsome video game battle. Kevin, Daphne and Samandriel versus Donna and Jody on Scrabble. Inias and Dean both soundly defeated by Castiel in monopoly because they were too busy staring each other down and getting flustered with jealousy. So Castiel cheated and slipped extra hotels onto his streets, till Dean finally caught on and demanded to know why the fee for staying at Casa d' Cas was going to cost him a thousand dollars. While Inias complained that Dean was freaking lucky to stay in Castiel's house and should shut up about it. 

"Yeah, you're right. Much as it enrages the deities of Monopoly, capitalism or whatever, here, have it all Cas, you win." 

Dean shoved all his bills towards Castiel, stuffing them into his hands, down his shirt, his pants. "Now come to bed." 

And Inias had to watch Dean smirk all the way up the stairs when Castiel quickly abandoned the game board. 

Grace and Halo chased each other in the snow and the huge snow dump came just the day after all the guests had gone home. So Dean and Castiel were completely snowed in between Christmas and New Years and they spent that time well delighting in each other's company, hardly noticing the days going by till it was a week into January and Dean got an urgent call to return to set, apparently there had been a decision to reshoot given the heavier snowfall which made the scenery 'more epic'. 

That placed Dean's schedule into a conflict because he was also supposed to attend a convention in mid-January. Castiel's birthday loomed on the horizon but he didn't say anything about it or about mating bites. Only checked that his name was still on Dean's chest when they made love before their parting, taking turns to bend and kiss the tattoos as he fucked slowly, face to face, into Dean. 

* * * 

"You're not coming to work tomorrow," Donna informed him on the Friday evening before his birthday. "It's all been arranged."

Balthazar was waiting in his sports car, the heater blazing, the music blaring. "Get in Cas, I used your spare key to pack you a weekend bag. Here is your boarding pass, your flight's in two hours, so lets hurry and get driving. You may thank me graciously now." 

He was surprised to see Sam at the airport terminal. Wishing him a happy birthday with a giant bar of candy and saying that he was also on his way to see Dean on-set. He showed Castiel Dean's itinerary, explained that Castiel could stay in Dean's trailer when on set and then Dean's suite when Dean was at the convention. Charlie met them at the end of the flight and drove the couple of hours to the remote location. 

"You can watch Dean film if you like," Charlie said, leading him through the huge piles of snow and what felt like treacherous darkness to a lit up patch of frozen forest. "Here's your pass for the set and all the other security tags for the convention." 

Dean was dressed like a hunter, Castiel watched from a distance as he loped through the piles of snow towards a natural hot spring, leapt in and bathed and slowly stood up. The glistening droplet freezing off his skin, the steam pouring from his chest. Castiel could not take his eyes way, could not persuade himself that a man so beautiful and kind could be his and him Dean's. 

When the director called cut on the scene, Dean came running up to them, catching the puffer jacket one of crew members threw at him in one hand. Dean thrust his arms into the sleeves and zipped up the jacket to the bottom of his jaw. 

Castiel hugged him and let himself be kissed and kissed Dean back with passion. Dean's face was still damp and so was Castiel's. 

He had seen, in the flood light, that his name was gone from Dean's chest. 

He made no mention of it in Dean's trailer as Dean drifted into an exhausted sleep though he had protested about wanting to make love to Castiel. 

In the morning, Charlie woke them, apologising but unable to change the schedule for the day as Dean was needed at the convention. 

They held hands in the van driving up to the event. 

Nothing had changed, Castiel told himself. He was still just as in love with Dean with or without the claim tattoo. He was convinced Dean loved him back too. They didn't need it spelled out. 

Though his chest felt a little like an aluminium can, emptied of its contents, a little crushed.


	24. Chapter 24

It was the same sort of convention set up as the one Castiel attended almost a year ago. Rooms full of excited people, queues for queues. This time though, he didn't need to buy a ticket and Charlie had organised a pass for him to get around the hall. Perhaps his perceptions were different now, rather than feeling lost in the crowds he felt a part of it. Could the bewilderment on the faces of newcomers and smile at them with a growing sense of belonging. There were a couple of people with official looking badges trying to direct him to backrooms with catering, but Castiel shook them loose with a few turns down various corridors. Dean was busy signings things all morning and being photographed so Castiel wandered out into the crowds with his all access pass tucked inside his shirt, only the rainbow lanyard showing. 

The room he entered was buzzing with expectation, people were hurriedly grabbing seats and murmuring to each other. The pamphlet in his hand informed him that Dean was going to make an appearance on the stage shortly, accompanied by a 'mystery co-star'. Loud music started playing on a large screen in sync with a video full of jump cuts and flashing special effects. After a minute the action shots of Dean running and shooting at things slowed down into close ups of his stunning face, then swelling romantic music played and Dean in period costume, some regency fancy get up, appeared on screen. Castiel admired Dean in a formal suit and the lush scenery depicted. A group of people settled into the seats around him, apologising as they stepped over his knees. 

"Hey, its you!" hissed a girl with blond hair and a familiar face. She looked at him expectantly, then rolled her eyes when he seemed startled and confused. 

The annoyed expression made Castiel's cop training kick in and he recognised her as Claire, the young woman who took pity on him at the last convention. 

"You're not here to throw any more donut shaped croissants at Dean are you?" She whispered confidentially. “People were bewildered on tumblr.”

Castiel shook his head, blushing. 

"So how've you been?" Claire said as if they were old friends meeting again, which Cas supposed they were. 

"Your friend Kaia? Did she finish her drawings?" 

"You mean my girlfriend now," Claire gave him a wink. "Yeah, she sure did, starting her own graphic novel. Its about a vampire guy and a werewolf guy who are true mates. Soppy ironic cuteness, I'm being super supportive partner, detouring to this convention so she can get more inspo for vamp dude. But hey fancy bumping into you here. She's gonna be pleased to see you." 

Castiel raised his eyebrows, Claire laughed and flicked open a notebook. "Be nice, don't sue."

Castiel could see a brief but lively sketch of a dark haired blue eyed character growling in side profile. His hand twisted in the collar of a green eyed pale faced man who was startlingly and obviously Dean. "Does... does my nose look like that?”

To say Kaia had given him a hawkish nose was an understatement. 

"The eyebrows and pork chop side hairy bits show you're the werewolf dude," Claire pointed out. "Hey don't judge, she's gotten a publishing offer juicy enough to fund our road trip all the way to Alaska and back for the summer. And all the comic con passes she wants. This is going to launch her career as an animator." 

“I’m not sure if my nose is truly that bumpy,” Castiel murmured.

“Heh, it makes you look more intimidating okay, thought you’d be more shocked by the fangs and bushy eyebrows,” Claire grinned crookedly. “Or you know, the romance between Detective Fang and Captain Growl?” 

“They are police officers?” Castiel husked, interested. “I am very much delighted with that portrayal.” 

“Knew you were a cool guy, underneath all that ... beige,” Claire gestured at the trenchcoat, bumping her fist into Castiel’s upper arm. “I’ll email you a copy if you wanna see it before it publishes.” 

Castiel rattled off his email address while Claire tapped it into her phone. 

“If you ever wanna get your head around the whole failing to claim Dean process and need a digital shoulder to cry on ...” Claire said after putting her phone away. “Just email me huh.”

“I ...” Castiel looked down at his hands. “Everyone in the Dean fan club knows about that?” 

“A few of them put it together, there was a gif of you and the cronut that went a little viral,” Claire shrugged. 

“No one said anything to me,” Castiel looked around, nobody was paying them much attention. 

“We have decorum,” Claire rolled here eyes again. “There are unwritten rules about keeping the cast comfortable and we don’t really care what they do in private. People can interpret this strange mediation of people and cultural products however they like. I guess when people look at me, I’m a 21 one year old woman talking to a I dunno ancient guy and getting their email right now. I’m sure the partriachy has an explanation for that. But it would be so off the mark.” 

“I see, I think,” Castiel nodded, then frowned. “They think I failed?” 

“There are two theories,” Claire sighed. “There’s always multiple theories about everything in fandom. Uh, one says you tried to claim him and was rejected at the last convention. The other says you guys are living in secret domestic bliss in some apple pie American town.” 

“Do you want to know which is true?” Castiel asked. 

“Call me a romantic but what does it matter?” Claire smiled at him, her eyes were calm blue and her usual blustery temper softened by the warm expression on her face. “You had a true mate tattoo and you were brave enough to show it to your intended. That’s amazing and you should be proud no matter the outcome.” 

Castiel felt an answering smile spread over his own mouth, loosening his jaw and easing over his forehead. He felt lighter and freer all of a sudden. The memory of Dean’s bare chest seemed a little more blurred and no longer stung. He knew Dean loved him and he loved Dean and the rest was just ink. 

The montage and music stopped when Dean appeared from backstage. There was wild cheering as he stepped out, raising his hand to wave at the crowd. He looked rather small from this far away, thought Castiel, but still handsome and bright faced despite the late hour till which he worked the night before. The stage was simply set up, two stools, some mic stands. Objectively, Castiel thought, Dean is just a man. 

To Castiel, Dean seemed unaccountably lonely on the stage. Vulnerable beneath the lights and cameras, laid bare. 

"Hey, thanks for coming out everybody,” Dean greeted the crowd. “I gotta tell you guys, its good to see you. You know when I wasn’t an actor I used to have this fantasy ...”

There was giggling in the crowd, Dean winked at the audience. “Not like that. Oh like I’m just gonna get on stage and tell you about it. My family’s in the audience.”

There was enthusiastic playful jeering from the crowd. 

“I used to fantasise about joining the circus, running away with the elephants, kinda fancied the bearded ladies and the strong men,” Dean grinned coyly. “But you know the act that always got me was the trapeze act. The flying around in the big tops, partners grabbing each other by the arms, plunging and throwing each other and always catching. Anyhow that’s what these cons are like for me, a big circus, not because its silly or weird, it’s fantastic and festive. All this to say, I’m gonna keep dong these long as I can, long as you guys want, for this project and the next.”

The clapping in the audience sounded like echoing sonorous waves. There’s a sense of general goodwill in the room. 

“And because we’re all in this together, I have to let you all know I’ve found the person who’ll catch me,” Dean looked up and searched the crowds. Castiel felt himself still, the weight of Dean’s gaze finally settling on him and Dean gave a soft mouthed smile. “Hey.” 

The quiet little sound was almost not picked by the microphone, but Castiel heard it over the steady heartbeat of Dean pumping under his own skin, convinced by the glowing synchronicity of their pulse even this far apart. 

“I found a partner who will be there and let me sail higher, take bigger risks, stretch my wings,” Dean said. “He happens to be an alpha but that is a part of him and not the sum of him.” 

There was a shadow looming by the backstage. Castiel’s acute senses, honed in on Dean, picked it up before the man stepped onto the stage. All the happy sweetness leaked out of Castiel at the sight of Arthur Ketch, sidling up to Dean, grabbing a microphone for himself. Dean looked surprised, a dismayed frown between his brows. Charlie was glaring from the side of the stage but Dean mutely shook his head at her. 

“Well that explains the chemistry in our love scenes,” Ketch said to the crowd. There was confusion and a few dry coughs. “Here I am, surprise mystery guest star.” 

Dean clapped politely and shook Ketch’s hand when the man dove in for a hug. 

“There aren’t any scenes like that,” Dean told the crowd with an awkward smile. “He’s pulling your leg.” 

“Shush omega, it’s for the box office sales,” Ketch pretended to joke. 

Castiel tilted his head and watched the stage with avid attention. Dean looked at him and gave an appeasing nod, as if to say he had things under control. 

“Yeah, I am an omega, with top billing,” Dean said. “And I pick who I work with, alpha, omega, or beta. Not sure I’d choose you again. Contract obligations notwithstanding.” 

Ketch looked furious, there was gleeful whispering in the crowd. 

“I mean this appearance is contracted right,” Dean said. “Says five minutes on stage together, you got 3 minutes left.” 

“Haha,” Ketch laughed. “Very funny.” 

“Two minutes thirty,” Dean smiled and went to pour himself a glass of water, slowly drinking it down, not saying anything else. 

“Come on omega, thought we were dating,” Ketch opened his hands, his brows sweating under the lights. 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t really date anyone who refers to me as ‘omega’, name’s Dean.” 

Claire snorted so loudly it led to a chorus of laughter. 

“He’s just pretending to be mad at me, come here Dean, my little omega,” Ketch tried one last time. 

Dean puffed out his chest and at his full height he was more imposing. “Not.yours.”

“I saw you on set last night, your claiming tattoo’s gone, so you’re free for claiming right,” Ketch said in a mocking voice. “Here I am prime alpha and ready to claim what’s mine.” 

Castiel was out of the chair, leaping down the aisles, jumping onto the stage before he could think about it. Ketch’s hand was already at Dean’s chest, pulling open his shirt. Castiel slid onto the stage and even as one part of him was standing by mortified by the display, he heard himself growl, his back arched and his head bowed, his fists clenched. Dean beat him to it though. He threw the glass of water in Ketch’s face, held him by the wrist and twisted it in one smooth movement that brought the alpha to his knees. 

“I might be unclaimed but I am not yours,” Dean said quietly. 

Charlie bundled Ketch off the stage and Dean smoothed his hands over his hair. Castiel could see this close up that Dean’s hands were shaking slightly. Though the lights were bright and they were filmed by cameras and projected onto huge screens, Castiel felt at ease. He went to the drink trolley and poured Dean a second cup of water and handed it to him. 

“Thanks Cas,” Dean said drinking down the water in a gulp, the microphone picking up Castiel’s name and amplifying it. 

Castiel turned to walk off the stage, but the glinting of something from Dean’s open shirt caught his eyes. The torn fabric fell and revealed the word ‘Castiel Novak’ in vivid royal blue. The cursive tips of the letter glimmering gold and Castiel stared. 

“It’s still there,” Castiel found himself touching the words, there was a hush in the hall. 

“Of course,” Dean said. 

“But last night ...” Castiel murmured. 

“I didn’t get a chance to have the makeup removed, too tired, wanted to cuddle,” Dean explained. “Uh, Cas, why are you looking at me like that?” 

It happened quickly, the kiss was heated like all their kisses were but after Castiel pressed his lips to Dean’s, Dean was growling like an alpha in rut and had Castiel backed up against the drink trolley. The kissing went on and on and Castiel was sure that the exhibitionist in Dean was watching the mirrored multiplication of them on the many screens. Someone wolf whistled in the crowd. Dean sunk his teeth into Castiel’s flushed neck.

The world spun out of control, Dean and Castiel were grappling on the stage, clumsy with urgency. Then Dean was flat on his back, his eyes wide and unblinking as Castiel sunk to one knee then another astride him. His hand at Dean’s throat, pushing his enraptured face to the side and then his teeth were in the back of Dean’s neck and everything was incredibly, fantastically, right at last. 

The mating bite was deep and neat and just as the alpha in Castiel purred away as he groggily examined it, his blood thick with satisfaction, Dean’s legs wrapped around Castiel’s waist and the world went topsy turvy again. Castiel could feel the press of Dean’s weight into back, the omega draping himself to cover Castiel in an alpha like manner. Then the bite came, gnashing teeth and licking tongue. Dean took forever licking the wound, he spent so long on it, purring and kissing that the lights went out. Castiel could hear vaguely the sound of Charlie taking over the microphone, saying something about an unexpected true mating and how everyone had to leave now. 

It wasn’t all that unexpected, thought Castiel as he stretched out, moving his hips so Dean could undress him in the darkness. The exits clanging shut and the locks and chains clattering as Charlie gave them the privacy they needed. 

Dean was his acclaimed and he was Dean’s. So it kind of all made sense, Castiel sighed blissfully as Dean moved down his back, wet and warm. 

* * * 

Dean looked nervous in the candlelight, straightening the cufflink on his rather officious looking dinner suit. Eileen’s bakery was officially closed. The small dining room with the plush velvet chairs, dark wood interiors and walls of glossy dark green ferns were lit up by a sea of fairy lights. The counter was glowing with tea light candles and displayed every type of pie on the menu and then some. The single table draped with white linen and laid out with rose gold cutlery was laid out with a simple savoury meal. Roast chicken, with rosemary potatoes, butter slathered vegetables and a glorious container of gravy. It was Castiel’s favourite meal, one of Dean’s signature home cooking offerings. The button mushrooms were freshly roasted. The bread rolls dense and flavoursome. 

“Happy birthday,” Dean said and led Castiel by the hand to the display of pies and cakes. “I have candles, please choose a flavour.” 

Castiel picked a simple looking sponge cake with strawberries and cream. Dean adorned it with candles and sparklers and almost set off the fire alarm when everything was lit at once. Castiel watched the sparklers splutter and pop with wonder. Till there was nothing left but wafts of smoke. He was, as always, struggling to make a wish. Castiel was always a contented person who lived in his own inner world with quiet ease. He sometimes wished for grand impossible things like world peace or smaller practical things like all his loved ones being healthy and happy. He didn’t have any special wishes for himself and certainly not now with Dean sprinkling his sunny presence onto every one of Castiel’s days. Castiel was half way through a wishy washy kind of promise to himself that he wanted Dean to live his life to the fullest when Dean fumbled a box out of his pockets and sunk down to one knee. Castiel’s eyebrows lifted when Dean presented him with a pair of mating rings. 

“Cas will you marry me?” Dean said. “And be my mate?” 

Castiel sucked in a lungful of air. They weren’t just mating rings, they were wedding rings too. 

The candle wax from the extinguished flames dripped onto the sponge cake. Castiel let out a sigh. 

* * * 

“It’s not too late to change your mind,” Father Damien Dane, by the authority of some fake church and an online course, said to Castiel as Dean walked up the aisle. 

Dean was blushing, his white suit gleaming in the sun, the waterfall was full that morning and the song of it drowned out the fake priest’s protests that Castiel ought to consider marrying him. 

The back garden had been transformed by months of care from Dean into terraced flowerbeds and garden rooms. The white water nymphs and ornamental pears in full bloom against the cascading waterfall gave the wedding a magical air. Castiel watched with a sore chest and a fluttering stomach as Dean paced down the white petal strewn aisle. The guests craning their neck and smiling at the sight of the bashful groom. 

The dogs ran out behind Dean, Sam and Gabriel untying the velvet boxes from their collars and passed the rings to Castiel and to Dean. Halo barked once with excitement. Grace remained silent and elegant. 

Castiel kissed Dean for an obscene amount of time, making the priest moan and Charlie stand up and usher the crowds towards the reception. Muttering under her breath that all of Angelfell can’t just ‘stay and watch.

The wedding cake was a tower of cronuts. Hendriksen complimenting Eileen on the crunch and creaminess of the dessert, while his date Meg slipped a chocolate covered treat into her dainty handbag. Charlie and Daphne danced the night away with Jessica and Sam. Cain and Benny took turns twirling each other to slow old songs while Damian Dane drank copious amounts of free champagne. Donna wept with joy as Jody dug into a cronut. Kevin sat quietly admiring his floral arrangements, while Inias tiptoed through the tulips to admire the garden in the sunset. Even Gadreel made a rare attempt to socialise, standing on the edge of the cliff with a pack of majestic looking dogs at his heel. Hannah brought him a drink and chatted amiably to the dogs as she patted them on their soft silky heads, carefully avoiding conversation with Gadreel so that he could feel comfortable. Crowley talked on his phone for most of the evening, but Naomi actually switched her’s off and danced with Rowena McLeod to a few ABBA songs. Dean was rather tipsy by the end of the evening and kept showing everyone Castiel’s name on his chest. 

While Dean’s name glowed warmly on Castiel’s skin, thrumming with the beat of his heart. 

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Tumblr: violetlyvanilla 
> 
>  
> 
> Other A/B/O fics: 
> 
> Acclaimed (prequel to Knotting Hill) https://archiveofourown.org/works/19064056  
> The Bodyguard (is the omega) https://archiveofourown.org/works/17404982 The Bodyguard Movie AU  
> Touch Me (Touch Me) Baby https://archiveofourown.org/works/18300440 A/B/O oneshot  
> The Seduction of Dr Castiel Novak https://archiveofourown.org/works/18497446 dark fic one shot  
> Dean And Cas Bond In Bath And Body Works https://archiveofourown.org/works/17483324 one shot  
> Cursed Or Knot https://archiveofourown.org/works/20162497 season 15 AU
> 
> Current WIPs: 
> 
> Pride And Prejudice + Tentacles https://archiveofourown.org/works/18630124
> 
> A Study In Stanford destiel sherlock fusion (posting soon)


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